Cuts and Bruises
by qbqb
Summary: Black eyes, bruises, cuts. Sometimes Sara has flashbacks....Sara's ex is in town with bad news.
1. Chapter 1

I don't own CSI just the characters I make up.

My first fic. Please reveiw.

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She watched him. Asshole. Son of a bitch. Piece of shit. But worse then that, he was a coward. She watched him as he told his story to Brass. Each time he revised his tale, the detective threw another piece of evidence that she and Grissom had collected at him.  
Pathetic. She would have thought he'd at least try to preserve the dignity he had left by keeping his mouth shut. Asshole. 

What makes him tick? She thought to herself. Did he enjoy hitting her? Did he think the bruises and cuts and badly broken nose was sexy? Was he so blinded by anger that he couldn't see he was beating his wife to death? Too many questions she thought. She settled on her original assessment. He was an asshole.

"Brian Settle you're under arrest for the murder of Chloe Settle." Jim Brass's words trailed off in Sara's mind or maybe she just stopped listening to him. She pushed herself away from the corner of the interrogation room with her left foot, her arms remained folded over her chest, her head down as she crossed to the door and left the room.

Grissom was waiting outside. He looked at her. After a case like this she was usually so angry but today she seemed distracted.

"You did good work Sara." She had done good work. The case had been frustratingly obvious, but they had struggled to connect the husband to crimes. Sara had found a series of tiny carpet fibers that had been transfered from the husbands shoe to his wife's face. They connected the crime to carpets in his office, his girlfriend's bedroom and the snooker room at his favorite bar, and of course to his shoe. Tiny fibers almost invisible on her body and in the wad of gum lodged in his tread. But she'd found them.

"Thanks." She said quietly.

"Tea?" She looked up at him. He held a paper cup in his hand, that tag of a tea bag dangling over the side. She accepted it.

They sat down on a bench in the hall. It was late. Shift had been over for several hours.

She looked up at him.

"Sometimes I have flashbacks." She admitted looking down again quickly. "The black eyes, the large sunglasses she wore to cover them, bruises on her stomach," her voice was quiet, monotone and it got quieter still, "her legs, the fear in her eyes."

Grissom was unsure what to say so he tried the obvious,

"Your mother?" He asked. A few silent tears fell down her cheeks, her eyes followed Brass and a young uniformed cop as they escorted Brain Settle down the hall.

"No," She answered him. Grissom was a little surprised. Who was she talking about? She answered his unasked question.  
"My ex-girlfriend."

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What do you think? Please let me know. 


	2. Chapter 2

Hey heres the next part. If anyones interested that is.

I don't own CSI.

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Grissom didn't reply. She felt her heart jump into her throat, had he already guessed, had he figured her out. Did he hate her for it.She didn't want to know.

"I…I have to go. I'm sorry. I…" She stood up and quickly left, nearly running into Brass on her way through.

"Woah where's the fire." Brass's comment went unanswered. He watched herwalk around the corner.

"She ok?" He asked Grissom.

"I…" Grissom shrugged, his words trailed off.

She pushed the key into the lock on her apartment door and turned it. Nothing happened, no click. She jiggled the key, it wouldn't budge.

"Dammit!" She yelled and banged against the door with her palm. Ok, ok relax, she told herself, reaching out and turning the key gently, the door opened with a satisfying click.

Entering her apartment, Sara walked to the fridge and grabbed a beer. She lent against her kitchen bench, she had to call her. Hard phone calls were not her strong point. Hell, phone calls were not her strong point. She picked up her phone and dialled the number from memory. The phone at the other end of the line rang.

"Hello." A young voice answered, Sara's heart stopped for a moment.

"Hello?" The voice asked again.

"Uh, hi…umm, is your mom home sweetie?"

"Hold on" and with that the child was gone, Sara heard a muffled voice call out, "Mommy, There's somebody on the phone, for you." then footsteps,

"Hello."

"Claire, hi, uh it's Sara." There was a deafening silence for a moment.

"What do you want?" Claire spoke quietly.

"I wanted, I don't know, I think I just wanted to apologise."

"Are you still using?"

"No, I'm, I'm clean." She looked down at the unopened beer in her hand. God had she just switchedfrom drugs to alcohol. She pushed it away.It was the last thing she needed. "I'm sorry I shouldn't have called. I'll let you go I…"

"No." Claire interrupted. "I'm glad you called, I need to talk to you about something."

"What's that?"

"Joey. He uh he's really sick." Claire's voice cracked as she spoke. "I want to bring him to see you if, if your ok." Sara could barely speak.

"Are you sure you wanna do that?"

"No, not really, but I think I needto. He askes about you." Sara hadn't even been sure that he would remember her. In truth, she had hoped that he wouldn't.

" Ah sure." They spoke for a few more minutes, but only to work out details. She couldn't believe it. She had thought that if she'd ignored it for long enough it'd go away. She was wrong.

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OK what do you think please reveiw. 


	3. Chapter 3

Hey heres the next chapter. Rating will probably go up because of this one.

I don't own CSI

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Sweat slipped into the corner of her mouth. Salty.

Her teeth bit into her bottom lip. Drawing blood.

Her knees screamed in protest.

Her knuckles were bruised, her shoulders aching, but she kept going.

She felt free as her fist slammed again and again into her target.

No responsibility.

No guilt.

No sick kids.

Just her and the black heavy bag. The Gym was empty. Just the way she liked it. It was called Mikes. Funnily enough, because Mike owned it. Sara had met Mike when she was in Grad school back in California. Not that he was a student or anything; Mike had dropped out of high school in the 9th grade. No he'd been her dealer. For a little over four years he had sold her ice to her. Crystal meth. She'd put it in her veins, in her lungs, in her stomach. Sara stopped using for Joey and Claire. Mike stopped dealing because he was bored with it. According to him anyway. Sara knew better.

When they'd met up again in Vegas, he'd given her the combination to the lock on the back door of his gym, and in return she gave him her body. It was an odd relationship but it worked for them.

Sara heard the door open, she turned around to see Mike. It was after hours, for most people anyway. Sara on the other hand had to start work in a few hours. She gave up on the bag. Mike came over to her silently and helped her remove the gloves. As he taking them off, she reached up and kissed his neck. She didn't usually feel short next to someone, but Mike was a big guy, 6"4' easy. He gave up on her straps and pushed her up against the wall, kissing her back.

* * *

"You wanna talk about it?" Sara looked at him. When most people see Mike the last thing they would think of is a confidant. Most people are scared to death of him, and usually for good reason. On more then one occasion Sara had worked a homicide she knew was his doing, however he was smarter then he looked, and she could never link him to the crimes, though not for want of trying. She could never figure out if she wanted him in her life or not, and sometimes she thought that having him in prison would be better for everyone.

"Joey's sick" She finally replied. She was sitting on a bench, in sweat pants and a sports bra, she'd lost the rest of her clothes, including her underwear into a pile next to her gym bag.

"AIDS?" he asked.

"Yeah." She closed her eyes, "Claire says he's dying."

"I'm sorry."

"It's not your fault." She said automatically.

"That's debatable" She didn't reply.

"She's bringing him here in a couple of days to see me."

"I wouldn't have thought that he'd be able to travel, or that she'd want to be on your turf, so to speak."

"She said he wants to come."

They sat silently for a while. Until Sara had to go to home and get ready for work.

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	4. Chapter 4

Hey guys hank for the reveiws. I do plan to introduce some background on the characters, and I'm gonna try to make the chapters a little longer. I'll see how I go.

I don't own CSI

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Feburary 2000

Sara stood up. "Hi. My name's Sara...and I'm a drug addict."  
"Hi Sara." Eleven voices greeted her in unison. She sat back down and looked around, hating the thought that she was like these people. Addicts, junkies, whores. No this wasn't her. This was just a phase, she wasn't going to be this person forever. This person who needed to stand up and introduce herself to eleven people everytime she saw them. This person who looked away in embarresment when one of them had come in as a suspect in a case a week ago. Not forever.

The meeting finished and she left. It was pouring rain outside, so she pulled her jacket over her head and ran to her car. She got in and closed the door behind her. Sitting in her car, she stared at the steering wheel, trying to decide where to go. She'd finished work a few hours ago and certainly didn't want to go anywhere near the Sanfranisco Crime Lab, she didn't want to go home either. That would mean seeing Claire and Joey and trying to look them in the eyes. A feat that was become harder and harder the longer she stayed clean. She started driving figuring that wherever she ended up was probablywhere she shoud probably be.

Sara was a few minutes from home when her phone rang. She pulled over to answer it, the last thing she needed was to be in car accident. Her home number came up on the screen. It must be Claire she thought.

"Hello"

"Sara hey it's me" Claire spoke softly into the phone, she sounded upset.

"Whats they matter, baby?" Sara knew when something was upsetting Claire.

"Are you on your way home? I need to talk to you."

"Yeah I'm on my way, I'll be there soon" She wasonly half lying, she was almost there, but she had planned on driving straight past, going to see Mike in hospial. He'd come off his bike a week ago, breaking both his legs.

"Good, I'll talk to you soon." Claire hung up the phone. Sara was worried, Claire didn't usually tell her that she needed to talk over the phone. Usually she just waited untill Sara was home. She had a bad feeling as she pulled out and continued driving. Mabey nothing was wrong she thought, mabey Clairewas just more confident now that she was clean, now thatshe wasn't hurting her anymore. Sara didn't know.

She pulled into the driveway and went inside the house. It wasn't a big house, though it was in a nice neighbourhood. It was old, needed a paint job, but front yard was well taken care of.

"Claire." She called out her partner, walking through the living room, towards the kitchen, Claire wasn't there.

"Claire?" She started to get worried again, unitl she came to Joeys room and found her sitting on the end of his bed, watching him. The four year old boy was asleep. "Hey."

"Hey." She had been crying.

"Whats going on?" Sara sat down gently on the bed.

"He's got it." Claire didn't need to say anything else Sara knew what she mentjust as well as she did. She should. It was her fault. She'd brought the guy into her house. She'd owed him money, and hadtrusted him, without even knowing him, just because Mike of all people had told her to.

Joey was young they both knew what that ment. Claire because because she was a doctor, a psychiratrist, but she had seen enough cases of HIV in children to know that he woldn't live long with it. Sara knew because she had it to. She didn't know exactly when she'd picked it up, probably in the early eighties form one of the guests at her parent bed and breakfast, who thought that she was complementry to the deal. Like a free breakfast in the morning. She'd been hospitalised in a pediatric AIDS ward when she was about 15, the drugs however that had come out soon after that had helped. What made it worse now was that it wasthe very strain in her body had infected their son, and while she'd probably be ok, Joey would not.

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	5. Chapter 5

Hey heres the next part.

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2005 

Claire was about ready to attack the flight attendent, named Joan according to her name tag. All she needed was for her to give Joey one more pityful smile as she passed by him in the aisle and she swore she would do it. She had been forced to disclose Joey's medical condition, to the airline in case of an emergency. During the conversation she had been unable to decifer the look on the clerks face, had it been pity, she was just plain sick of that one. Had it been fear, this one she hated because Joey had to endure it, or was it disgust, that her, his mother had allowed it to happen. That one she hated Sara for.

It wasn't often that she hated Sara for what had happened. She had been clean, getting herself back together. Afterwards, she had told Claire that she had owed the man money. Claire hadn't beleived her. Sara felt responsible for it, it was her blood that had infected him. She had been so careful around Joey, even when she was shooting up, and she had wanted a reason why everything had suddenly changed, the only one she could find that didn't put Mike at fault was her drug use. No she didn't often hate Sara for that night, but she hated her for that look, becase she had never told her exactly how it all happened. She had never given Claire anyone to blame, anyone to give that look to herself. She instead had to find out by overhearing only half of a conversation between Sara and Mike, she had never gotten the full story, and had never told Sara what she knew.

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She shifted on the hard plastic chair. She hated waiting,and she hated sitting still. She looked towards the gate, people had started coming out. She stood up, watching the people exit sometimes one by one, sometimes in pairs, occasionally families, it wasn't the right time of year for family holidays. The flow of people started to trickle off, she began to worry. She watched as one of the flight attendents exited, her name tag read Joan. Sara walked up to her.  
"Is there anyone left on the plane?" She asked her. 

"Yes mam, two more passengers." She walked off not offering anymore information, Sara supossed that the woman wasn't allowed to. She waited some more. Finally they came out the gate, Claire looked tired, her dark red hair was tied back, she was wearing loose fitting jeans and a baggy sweater. Had she lost weight? Joey was asleep on her hip, for a nine year old he was tiny. He had his mothers hair and dark green eyes. If he didn't look so sick he would be very cute. Now he was wearing a beenie, she suposed to keep him warm, and with his eyes closed, and pale skin, he looked like every terminally ill child in any hospital ward around the world.

Sara caught Claires eyes, and gave her a small, sad smile. Claire returned it, as she made her way to where Sara was sitting and sat Joey on the seat.  
"Hey," Sara was nervous as she spoke, "how are you?"

"I'm okay."

"You look tired," Claire closed her eyes and brushed a few stray strands of hair behind her ears. She didn't reply, "how was the flight?" Sara tried desperatly to avoid an awkward silence.

"It was good, well except for this one flight attendent, kept giving Joey this...sad... look. I think I was about ready to attack her."  
Sara smiled "Come lets get your stuff, I know a great cafe close to here."

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It was a small cafe, a french man in his mid sixties owned it andhad done for almost 30 years. Sara knew him only asJimmy, the name he had given her when she asked the night she had found it on her way home from a scene one night. 

"Hey Jimmy." Sara called out. Jimmy nodded in greeting as Claire laughed quietly as Sara. "What?" Sara questioned.

"Small town manners." Claire had found this a source of amusement for many years. Most people didn't pick Sara as a small town girl, even when shementioned it, most of peoplestill thought she ment that she grew up in the suburbs rather then the city. It wasn't untill people saw this side of her that they realised what she ment, but Sara didn't let that happen often. Then there was strong need to keep her personal life private, as if everybody who knew her would find out if she talked about it, a reminant of growing up in a town where everybody knew everybody elses buisness, and her families buisness was often the topic of gossip. Sara was used to walking into a room to people who suddenly stiffle their laughfter or stop whispering. Sometimes Claire usuallyfound her paranioa cute andslightly funny, when she had beenon drugs however, the paranioa hadusually led to violence.

"I..." Sara started to defend herself, grateful for Claires light hearted mood, but she just laughed it off. They both ordered coffees and made small talk until they arrived. Sara took a sip of hers. "So are you going to stay with me or in a hotel?" She asked Claire.

"I can't afford a hotel, you don't mind do you?" Sara didn't mind at all she wanted to see Joey as much as possible while they were hear. She may not get another chance.

"No of course not." Claire looked slightly releved, she was still anxious though, Sara supposed that she was still a little scared of her.

"What made you call me that night Sara?" Sara knew the question was coming, she had hoped to distract her long enough for her to forget that she had wanted to ask it, but this was not an east task to accomplish when talking to a shrink.

"Bad case. A man beat his wife to death." Claire was about to respond when Sara's phone rang.

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Soooo...what do you think?


	6. Chapter 6

Hey hey heres the next chapter. Hope you like it.

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She said no. She never says no. Thats why he called her, he knew she wouldn't say no, but she did. He hung up his phone and called Greg instead. Greg didn't say no. What could she be doing that would make her say no to a high profile triple homicide. He didn't have time to dwell on it, Brass was calling him. 

"Hey Griss, take a look at this." Jim was crouching in one corner of the living room. The afternoon sun was creeping in through the shutters on the windows, leaving an eerie orange glow on all of the victims blood covered faces. Grissom walked over to where Brass was crouching.

"What have you got?"

"Bloody knife." Grissom cocked his head to one side as he looked atBrass's find,

"It looks about the same size as the wounds."

"Thats kinda creepy. Just leaving it here." Brass' words were supported by the look in his eyes. Mabey it was the light in the room, or mabey it was something else, something that they hadn't found yet, but the scene was disturbing. There was blood from one end of the room to the other, but every other room in the house was spotless.

"Hey Grissom." They heard the door creak open.

"Hey Greg, thanks for coming in, I want you start photographing the room ok."

"Sure." Greg was quiet as he knelt down and opened his kit, retreiving his camera. He took a quick survey of the room, there was blood spatter everywhere.  
Cast off, passive transfer, arterial spray. Everywhere, everywhere except overthere. It looked like a small void where the wall met the carpet, he moved closer, it was a small peice of paper, torn from its original source.

"Hey Grissom" Greg called.

"What have you got?" Grissom walked towards him to get a better look.

"The only thing in the room with no blood on it." Grissoms eyes lit up as they met his.

"And what does that tell us?"

"That it was left there after the blood bath."

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"I hate it when you do that." Claire looked at Sara as she spoke. 

"Do what, say no to my boss." Sara said with a small laugh.

"No say stuff like that as if its nothing, as if it happens everyday, as if there isn't a nine year old boy asleep in my lap."

"I'm sorry I didn't think, and it does happen everyday. I...I'm sorry it's probably not the answer that you wanted." Sara sighed part of her wanted to know everything that was going on with Joey. The other part wanted to stay blissfully unaware. Not that it would change anything.

"How bad is he?" Claire looked down at the child in her lap.

"He's dying Sara, PCP's worse then ever, virus is getting to his brain, sometimes hes fine other times, hes not..." Her voice started to crack. Sara reached out and placed her hand on top of hers. Claire laced her fingers around Sara's for a moment before letting go and wiping tears away from her eyes.

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There you go a little short I'm sorry.


	7. Chapter 7

Heres the next chapter. Thanks for the reveiws. Keep em coming please.

I don't own CSI.

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Grissom heard a knock on his office door. "It's open." 

"Hey." He looked up when he heard Sara's voice. "I'm sorry about yesterday. I had some...personal stuff."

"Thats okay." Grissom said taking off his glasses.

"I ah need to talk to you about something." Sara moved further into the room. Grissom motioned to her to sit down. She didn't though.

"I um, I need some time off. As soon as possible, I know it's short notice but it's really important."

"Is everything ok?"

"Ah, well..."

"Are you ok?"

"I'm fine, it's not me, my ex is in town...withum ou..her son. Sick, he's er, he's sick. I..." She was having trouble finding the words she was looking for.She didn't do it often, only when she was nervous, about doing something, saying something. Or scared, of how someone would react.

"Hey, hey slow down. Start from the begging. And sit down," Grissom tried to calm her nerves, "all I'm getting at the moment is word salad." Sara sighed and sat down.

"Sorry. It's a second language thing," She was about to move on but noticed the blank look on Grissomsface, " When I'm nervous I have trouble with english."

"It's not your first language?" Grissom was suprised, was that someting he should have known?

"No. Ah French. Anyway," She stood back up. "My ex is in town. Her son is very sick, he's ah doesn't have much time left. I'd like to spend some time with them."

"How much time?"

"I'm not sure, at least two weeks mabey more."

"Thats fine. Can you finish up the weekend?" He would have liked more notice, but he remebered what she had told him a few nights ago, whatever she had ment, it sounded like these next few weeks would be important. To him anyway, he didn't claim to be the best judge of these things.

"Sure. Thanks." She got up to leave.

"Sara. If you need to talk about anything."

"I know where you are."

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"Hey Sara." Greg called out. Sara looked up at him from her locker. "You missed out on a cool triple yesterday." Sara looked at him. She was tired, Claire had been up half the night taking care of Joey. She had been torn as to wether or not she should help her,wether or not shehad the right to help her. She'd resorted to looking after Claire instead. Lots of coffee. 

"Ah it's yours Greg. I'm taking some time off, starting monday." She closed the door on her locker. Gregs eye's lit up.

"Really, um, is everything ok?" He didn't want to sound too excited. He failed.

"Haha! Eeverything's fine Greg, I'm just taking a few weeks off. I didn't realise you'd get so excited." She teased.

"Well you know me, any oppurtunity to show off my genius." Sara smiled at him before she left the locker room.

* * *

Greg looked at the peice of paper he had collected from the crime scene. It was thick, almost cardboard, instead of paper. There was faint water mark visible in the background. It looked familiar. Very familar, he knew what it was, it was on the tip of his tounge, he just couldn't remember it. Vague ideas floated through his head.  
Beer.  
Beach.  
Jimmy his best friend from highschool.  
His parents.  
What was he remembering. He tried to link it up.  
Thick paper, family.  
Thick paper, party.  
Thick paper, vacation.  
Vacation, Trip.  
Plane!  
It was a plane ticket. He'd used the same airline when he'd visited his parents last year. He paged Grissom.

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Hey sorry I know it took a little longer then usual. Next part will be up soon. 


	8. Chapter 8

Heres the next part. Italics are thoughts during conversations, just to keep it easy to follow.

I don't own CSI

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It wouldn't be that hard  
It couldn't be that hard.  
It wasn't like she hadn't done it before.  
Just walk up to him, sit down and do it. Stop acting like he's not here.  
She'd interrogated murderers, rapists and serial killers, sometimes she even got them to confess. Why was talking to a nine year old boy so frightening.  
Because he was dying. There was something about terminally ill children. They scare you. They awaken something in you that you would have been perfectly happy to ignore. A sense of mortality? Maternal instincts? Let sleeping dogs lie, don't talk to sick kids, or you wont be able to sleepat night.

"Hey Joey." She suddenly became aware of her surroundings again, while talking herself into walking over, she must have alreadydone it. Joey was sitting at her breakfast bar, she didn't have a table, eating toast that Claire had made him before going to take a shower. He looked pretty good today. There were nodarkcircles around his eyes. He was happy, laughing at the Garfeild comics in the newspaper. His gorgeous dark green eyes matched his sweater, and his mothers eyes. His dark aurburn hair stood out in contrast to his pale skin, but he wasn't sickly pale, just red haired kid pale, well today anyway. A few nights ago had been a different story.

"Hey." He looked up at her.

"Do you remember me?" _Please say no. Not really, only a little_.

"Of course mama." _Shit, he didn't forget. He called me mama_. She couldn't help but smile at him. "You left us."

"I had to." _Keep it simple_.

"Why?" _Or not. At least be honest._

"I didn't wanna hurt you guys." She spoke softly, gently, she didn't want to scare him.

"You never hurt me." _No. I just gave you a terminal illness._

"I hurt your mom." He finally made eye contact with her.

"She was sad when you left." He didn't look happy any more. Sara closed her eyes for a moment.

"I didn't mean to make her sad."

* * *

Claire watched silently from the hall as Sara tried to explain her actions to Joey. She was doing ok, but it was hard to explain violence to kid, especially a kid who didn't have time for it. Claire remembered the day he got infected. Sara was in the kitchen with Joey and Mike and another man. Mike had seemed scared, an oddity in itself. She couldn't hear most of what they had said though, just fragments back and forth between Sara and Mike.

"No...just go...I..." Sara was talking in an angry whisper.

"I...just...please Sara..."

"...happening in my house...go!" Claire didn't know if Mike had planned on leaving or not, because he had never got the chance. Two men burst through the front door and into the living room where Claire was. They hadn't bothered hiding their faces. Both were tall with black hair, though one had curls and the other had shaved it very close to his head. Other then that every thing else seemed similar. Both had light pasty skin, addict skin, and dark eyes. Both were thin. The man with the shaved head had a large knife, the other a gun.

"Where is he!" screamed shaved head. Claire didn't reply. He moved quickly to where she was sitting andbefore she knew it he had his knife under her chin. He spoke slowly, angrily. "Where is he?" Before Claire could reply Mike came into the living room.

"Well lookit what we got here." The guy with the curls was speaking, he sounded high.From this point no more wordswere spoken, everybody, including Sara seemed to know the story, why the two men were breaking into their home, and why theywould not leave without hurting someone.The only thing Claire remembered after that was the blood, Sara's bloodflowing into Joeys. However much Claire loved Sara, her blood was likepoison. A deadly liquid which Claire was unable to stop from eventually killing her son.

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There you go please review.


	9. Chapter 9

Hey long time between chapters I know bu hey assinments and exams and such. etc. Heres some more.

I don't own CSI

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"Look Sir," Brass was getting frustrated. He had asked the clerk for any information on a number sequence Greg had found on the scrap of ticket stub. He had been lucky enough that the sequence had corresponded to the flight number, but wanted more."We're investigating a triple homicide, I need to know more then just which flight the ticket was for. I need that passinger list now." The young man behind the desk was nervous, his hands were sweaty, his words jumbled.

"Ah yeah sure I um I just need to speak to my manager about it...about giving it to you. She won't be long." He couldn't have been more then 21 and obiously hadn't been on the job long, he had no idea how to respond to the detectives request.

"Look kid. This is warrant, and these are handcuffs," He held up the two items for the kid to see, "If you don't give me the list of passengers for that flight I will use one of them on you and I think even you could figure out which one." The fear in the young mans eyes only lasted a second because his manager had chosen that moment to come to the desk and see what he wanted. Brass sighed heavily and relayed the information to the manager.

"Certainly sir I'll get that for you now." She was obviously trying to make up for her subordinants behaviour. Five minutes later he had the list and headed to the crime lab.

* * *

"Hey Greg." Brass called out. "I got you a passenger manifest. You run those prints from the scene yet?" Greg looked up from the bench he was working at. 

"Yep." He handed the results to Jim. They scanned both lists hoping to find a name that appered on both. No such luck. "Damit! Well still, a ticket that belonged to one of the passengers on that flight ended up in the crime scene."

"So we interveiw 'em all"

"Thats over two hundred people" Greg was shocked at the suggestion.

"Ah now thats why I'm the detective," Brass had a smug look on his face, "Vegas was only a stop over. Only eleven people got off the plane here." Greg smiled

"So what are we waiting for."

* * *

Greg was beggining to realise that even eleven people was a lot to interveiw. This was number eleven. He watched from the observation room. Brass hadn't let him in. 

"Ok Dr Matthews." Brass spoke through a heavy sigh, this day was getting to be a long day. "You were a passenger on flight 476, San Fransisco to Las Vegas, on Sunday night."

"Yes Sir What is this about?" The doctor asked.

"Do you still have your ticket stubb by any chance?"

"No I threw it out. What is this about.?" Dr Matthews was getting aggitated.

Brass launched right into shock tactics. "Three people were murdered last night and we found a tickect stub at the crime scene that could only belong to one of eleven people in Las Vegas. We've spoken to all of them including you and only three can not account for the where abouts of their ticket stub." Brass stared the woman down she didn't look like she could have killed those three people, but so far he didn't have many options. "Can you account for you own whereabouts on Sunday night." Dr Matthews wasn't responding to his tactics.

"I was with my son, who was asleep."

"Really, now you didn't happen to duck out and murder three people after you read him a story did you?" Brass tried again, he shifted his chair closer to her and sat down, all the while continueing his staring competition. He was ashamed to admit that she was winning.

"No I didn't." She said quietly. Brass tried a different tactic, picking up a peice of paper he had on the table he read off her personal details.

"Dr Claire Matthews.

Psychiatrist.

Single

Residence, San Fransisco California.

One son Joseph aged nine.

What are you doing in Vegas Claire?"

"Visiting my ex, look I don't have to sit here and answer your questions. I'm leaving." Brass watched as Claire left the interogation room and Greg replaced her.

"So were down to three."

"Were down to three." Brass sighed again.

* * *

Sara heard the door open. Claire had gone out earlier but she had not asked where she was going, she didn't fell like she had the right. Sara wondered if Claire would tell her, if it was even important. There was a time when Claire had told Sara everything, when she didn't need to wonder. She had successfully put those time out of her mind when she had moved here, but over the last couple of days she'd found herself missing those days, those moments in the early hours of the morning, when Claire was asleep, watching her. 

"Sara" She snapped back to reality, and carefully manuvered herself off Joey's bed so as not too wake him up. He had been very sick for the last couple of hours.

"Hey" She said as she made her way out to meet Claire.

"Hows Joey?" She looked tired.

"He's asleep, wasthrowing up for a few hours earlier though." She heard Claire sigh and watched her shake her head. A wave of guilt hit Sara.

"Have you heard about these murders that happend on Sunday?" Sara was confused that had come out of nowhere.

"Yeah, my boss wanted me to investigate them but I was with you." Claire gave her a confused look.

"Apparently they found a ticket stubb from my flight at the scene and I'm one of three people who can't account for their stubb. They just interveiwed me." Claire held Sara eyes, they were both beggining to see a problem with the situation.

"Why didn't you tell me?" Sara asked softley, still trying to figure out what was confusing her. "Wait a minute, if anyone who commited those murders was on the plane they'd be a bit short on time and you were with me the moment you got off the plane."

"I think your collegues are a little confused."

* * *

There you go please review. 


	10. Chapter 10

Hey heres the next part sorry its a bit short. Again italics are Saras thoughts.

* * *

Sara thought about the plane ticket. It didn't make sense why would they make a connection where there couldn't be one. There wasn't enough time. It was a big case, was it there only lead? She didn't know the details. Brass and Greg were working the case, Greg was new to this he may have overlooked it in all the stress of a high profile case, she doubted it though, he was smart and besides Brass was working it with him. She wanted desperatly to get involved now that Claire was beng considered a suspect, despite having an alibi. But she knew she couldn't. Besides she had more important things to worry about. Joey. 

She thought back to the night it happened. She had been in the kitchen with Joey, was on the tail end a meth hit, and trying to tell him a story.

* * *

"So this little bird right, he's sitting in the middle of the road, and he's not moving and I'm trying drive past him without hitting him, so I slow down, and I'm goin' really slowly, and I get right up to him but he still doesn't move, he's just sitting there not moving at all, so I BEEP! the horn at him and he jumps up and flys away." Joey giggled not so much from her somewhat incoherent story but because she said beep really loud. That started her off too. " But this little bird he flys back down and lands about two feet infront of my car again, musta taken me five minutes to get around him, five minutes can you believe that. Five minutes!" Joey kept giggling, she liked making him laugh. "And then..." 

Bang, bang, bang.

Before she could finish there was a knock at the door.

"Well I s'pose I better that" She said to Joey. She got up and headed towards the front door.

Bang, bang, bang, bang.

The knock came again it was more urgent now and this time Sara realised that it was coming from the back door. She turned to look at the door, was her mind playing tricks on her, given her current state it was centainly possible.

BANG, BANG, BANG, BANG, BANG

The knock came again,harder. She finally opened the door. Mike came rushing in with a teenage boy in tow, shutting the door behind him. He looked worried.

_Who the hell is that.  
_"Hey Mike." She drew out her words slowly. "What going on, who is this?" She pointed toward the boy.

"Sara this is my little brother Sean."

_He has a brother?  
_"Hey Sean." She was still speaking slowly . Sean didn't respond. "Mike whats going on?" Her speach picked up she was starting to get scared.

"I ah just wanted you to meet him."

_Hes lying.  
_"Are you hiding from somebody." She dropped her voice to a whisper.

"No! Yes. Please Sara just 10 minutes. Please." He was begging her, this was not Mike. He seemed really scared.

"No way in hell! Get out of here." Her voice stayed in a whisper but now it was tinged with anger. It was a scary voice on a meth addict who was on her way down from a high.

"Sara! please they're gonna' kill him." He matched her whisper but his was fearful and pleading not angry.

_Why did he have to comehere._  
"Just go now! I don't care."She was only half lying, she cared about Mike, shedidn't know his brother, she didn't want him to be killed, but she wasn't going to put her son at risk.

"I ...just 10 minutes please Sara!"

"No! We have a child here, this is not happening in my house now go!" At that moment Sara heard a crash through the living room door. She ran out to see what was going on. Two men had broken into her home. She recognised one of them, though he had shaved his head since she had last bought drugs of him.

"Where is he!" The man screamed at Claire who was in the living room. She was frozen. She didn't reply. Sara watched in horor as he moved towards Claire, She made a move to help her but came face to face with the other man. He had a gun pointing straight at her.

"Don't move" He whispered to her. Sara stared at him for what seemed like forever, untill something diverted his attention

"Well lookit what we have here." His eyes moved quickly back to Sara as he slammed the but of his gun into her head.

* * *

ok. more later. please review. 


	11. Chapter 11

Hey. Hehe cliffhangers are fun arn't they.

There's a bit of language in this one.

I don't own CSI

* * *

Sara sat down on the couch beside Joey. "Hey." 

"Hey." He replied. Sara looked down to the toy he wasplaying with, "Is that an eagle?"

"It's a bald eagle. Did you know that they're the only large black bird in North America with a white head and tail." He looked up at Sara wide eyed and excited.

"Really, thats kinda cool." She smiled at him.

"And they can see a dark fish in the water while flying hundreds of feet up in the air!" He made a soaring motion with his small hand to demonstrate. "And they can see forward and to the side at the same time." Sara's smile grew larger as Claire watched from the kitchen.

"Hey have you ever seen one up close." She had an idea.

"No. Have you?" He looked a little sadden by this.

"No. But I have a friend who could show us one." His eyes lit up instantly.

"Up close!" Claire watched the exchange, Sara always did love making him smile.

"Yeah! I bet he might even let you hold him." She whispered.

"Cool! Can we go tomorrow?"

"Only if you go to bed and get some sleep." Sara was suddenly aware of Claire speaking. She smiled at Joey.

"Go on, bed time." Claire continued. Joey got up quickly but suddenly got very tired as he walked towards the bedroom. Claire rushed over to him quickly and picked him up, carrying him to bed. His head resting on her shoulder, legs on either side of her waist.

"Goodnight Joey." Sara called to him.

"Goodnight." his voice was sleepy.

* * *

Claire emerged back into the living room soon after and sat down next to Sara, who offered her a cup of coffee she had just made. "Thanks. Hes out like a light." 

"He got tired quickly." Claire just nodded in reply. They didn't make eye contact. When Joey was in the room he was a distraction, they could be happy, laugh and smile but when he left, it was a different story. Just the two of them, akward moments, silences. Over the last couple of days however Claire had noticed that her heart had stopped skipping a beat when Sara made a sudden movement. She realised that Sara had changed. Back in San fransisco when she had first started using, it was almost as if there were two versions of her, the normal Sara,without drugs, and the drug induced version. That one was violent, angry and unpredictable. Over time it became harder and harder to tell the two apart. But now the drug induced version was gone. Hopefully for good.

"You don't mind me taking him to see the guy with the eagle tomorrow do you?"

"No, not at all, he's really excited." Sara finally looked at Claire her deep red hair was down, it hung loosly around her shoulders, dark green eyes, were tired and sad.

"I'm sorry Claire."

"For what?"

"Fucking everything up. I hate that I hurt and Joey. I hate what I became. I'm sorry, I'm not saying this so that you can forgive me we can pretend it never happened. I'm not asking for your forgivness, or even a second chance, you guys deserve better then that." Sara's eyes filled with tears and she looked away.

"Yeah we do."

Claire leaned over and kissed her. Long soft kisses.She broke the kiss and reached down to the buttons on Sara's shirt, undoing them one by one. She reached around Sara's waist with one hand and guided them both up of the couch and towards Sara's bedroom.

* * *

Sara looked at Claire asleep beside her. A million thoughts raced through her mind.  
_Shit  
__What am I doing  
__Shes beautiful  
__He's dying  
__Shes beautiful._  
She turned and looked over at the clock it read eleven thirty. She got up and went into the living room. Picking up the phone she dialed Greg's cell phone. He answered after a few rings. 

"Sanders"

"Hey Greg it's Sara."

"Hey, and hows the world outside the lab. Does it still exist? 'Cos ah,I haven't seen it in a while." He said with a laugh.

"It's ok, listen about your big case,"

"The triple?"

"Yeah a friend of mine was interveiwed as a suspect. She said it was because of a ticket stubb."

"Ah I can't discuss it with you then you know that."

"Yeah, no, I know, I just, Okay I'm not suggesting your not doing your job properly.I don't know any details of the case but I wanted to make sure you were aware of the amount of time between.."

"when the plane landed and the crime occured? Not very long." There was a short silence.

"Shit, I'm sorry Greg. I trust you I shouldn't worry about it."

"It's ok"

"I'm just confused about why she's a suspect thats all." Greg listened to her ramble. He was a little dissapointed that she called to check on it, but apparetly they had interveiwed her friend, he probably would have wanted to know as well. He thought about it for a moment, they had only interveiwed one woman, Claire Mathews.She must be who Sara was talking about.

"Don't worry Sara we just followed the evidence, it's a weird case. Don't wory about your friend we don't have any serious suspects at the moment."

"Thanks Greg. I"m sorry." She knew he shouldn't have told her that but was grateful that he did.

"Don't mention it." They hung up. _Damit. _Now Greg probably though she didn't trust his work. She stretched out her neck, put the phone back on the hook and went back to bed.

* * *

"SARA, Sara wake up" Sara heard Claire's panicked scream. She shot up in bed. Her heart raced. Joey. She jumped up out of the bed. 

"Claire!" She ran into the spare room Claire was on the phone.

"I need an ambulance, my son, he has AIDS hes not waking up. Yes hes breathing, has a pulse, I just...I can't wake him up please..."Claire continued on the phone quoting Sara's adresss in a panicked voice. Sara rushed over to their son.

"Joey. Joey! JOEY!" She shook him by the shoulder. He didn't respond.

_Oh God! Don't let him die yet. Please!_

* * *


	12. Chapter 12

wow originally I was going to say how quickly I got this chapter up ... then I got stuck after the first two paragraphs...sorry about that...

I don't own CSI

* * *

For some people its the smell. Antiseptic, sterile. 

For some its all the white. White sheets, white walls, white coats.

For some its the beeping. Heart monitors, phones, beepers, alarms.

For some its the noise. The doors crash open, the wheels rattle over the floor, doctors scream and shout, beeps, alarms, then nothing.

For some it was the waiting. Not knowing anything, coffee,looking forthe doctor, more coffee.

For some its the people. Sick, injured, bleeding, dying.

For Claire it was two things. One was the hard plastic chair she was sitting in. The one in every medical waiting room, reminding you that all you can do is wait. You can only sit in them for so long before you have to move, but it doesn't matter how many times you try, whether you cross your legs or your ankles, sit straight or slouch, lean to the left or to the right, at a certain point you just have to get up or give up. The second was the memories. Every other time that she had brought her son in here. Every doctor who treated him, every nurse who cared for him, every prescription, every pill, every injection, every test, every chair that she sat in and waited. She looked over at Sara. She had never seen her so scared since she had known her. She couldn't stay still. Claire knew that she felt responsible, she didn't blame her for Joey getting sick, but it didn't matter. She could tell her a thousand times that it wasn't her fault, it would never change anything.

Claire shifted against the hard plastic chair, and couldn't help but wonder if it would be the last one.

Sara stopped pacing and lent against the wall, she had long given up on the horrible chairs. She hated hospitals. She hadn't always though, when she was a kid hospitals were a refuge. They signaled the end a fight, the beggining of up to a week of peace between her parents. But most of all it ment they were safe. Her father never came with them, her brother usually didn't either, it would just be the two of them. They would wait for the nurse or the doctor, who would always know what to do or say to make her mother feel better and safe. They would speak to each other in French. It was her mothers first language, she loved it but rarely got to speak it anymore because Sara's father couldn't and hated not knowing what his wife was talking about. Sometimes they would wait for hours and hours, but Sara never minded, because when she got tired her mother would sing a french lullaby softly in her ear untill she fell asleep on her lap.

Then she turned eleven, and in the course of that year her life turned upside down.By the end of it, her fatherhad died, her mother was in a psychiatric prison, she was in foster care and her brother had been missing for almost six months. Compared to some of the stories she had heard from other kids, she'd never had a bad experience in foster care until June of 1985, when her foster parents took her to the doctor. She had some strange purple spots on her face and hands. They were a middle class family, completely cut off from the gay community and were blissfully ignorant about the AIDS epidemic. They knew nothing of how it was transmitted, the symptoms or the effects on the human body. All they knew was what they had heard in passing amongst their friends; that there was a deadly disease 'going around the gays', some called it the gay cancer, others the gay epidemic, others still called the cure for homosexuality. Her doctor knew imeadiatly what it was but didn't tell her them untill her blood work back and therefore could be certain. The first thing her fostor mother did when she was told was let go of her hand and it just got worse after that. They told social services that they couldn't take care of her anymore without disclosing her HIV status for fear that somebody they knew would find out that they had let AIDS into their home, and possibly exposed themselves and their children to the terrible disease.

Sara was put into a group home. She hid the KS lesions from the other kids by wearing long sleeved shirts and her hair down until they faded. Other would always replace them though. She wasn't treated for the disease at all until she developed a bad cough and was taken to the doctor by a social worker who knew more about AIDS then Sara's foster parents. Many of his friends had already succumb to the virus, other were on their way and he had lost his partner of eleven years three months ago.This particular social worker was the only one whose name Sara remebered today. It was Joeseph. Sara had always called him Joey. The doctor told her that She had PCP, an AIDS related form of pneumonia, it along with the Karposi Sarcoma, and AIDS related form of cancer, which, Sara learned were known as opportunistic infections. This ment that they only appered when the bodies immune system was depleted, and hence in a deadly circle of disease the immunse system couldn't fight off theinfectionsand the body got weaker and weaker. When she was fifteen she was hospitalised in a make shift pediatric AIDS ward close to the San Fransisco Castro district. Even there however where people knew of the disease, how it was transmitted and how to avoid infection, nobody knew what to do. There was no treatment that cure the sufferersand all the doctor could do was make the patients more comfortable. As her body wasted away, she was subjected to experiment after experiment. Some treatments were okay and while doing nothing to stop the progression of the disease, they did make her feel better, others were painful, and sometimes almost killed her. It was here in the heart and the height of the AIDS epidemic in the U.S. that Sara developed her hatred for hospitals.

She started to pace the waiting room agian.

Finally the doctor emerged. "Excuse me are you Claire Matthews ?" The doctor addressed his question to Sara.

"No, she is." She gestured to Claire who was now standing beside her.

"How's our son.?" The word our did not escape Sara attention, or the doctors. After a brief glance at Sara, he moved a few steps away from her so that he was standing on the other side of Claire. He spoke to her quietly.

"Your son is very sick, His heart is failing, eventually it will stop. I'm very sorry but the only thing we can do is to make him more comfortable, he probably won't make it through the night, he is awake though, you can go and see him." The doctor gestured down the hall to Joey's room. Claire fought back tears as she took Sara's hand, she felt it shaking in her grasp. Sara looked up at her. Her eyes were red and sadder then Sara had ever seen. It broke her heart and she pulled Claire into a hug to try and stop it. It didn't work. They pulled apart and started to walk towards Joeys room, when the doctor's voice stopped them.

"Ah mam," he directed his words to Sara, "it's family only at this point." She felt her heart jump in her chest, and took a deep breath to steady it, she hadn't been prepared for that.

"Pardon me" She said quietly. The doctor stood his ground and spoke curtly,

"I'm sorry mam you can't see the child right now, your not a blood relative and you have no parental rights over him.It's hospital policy. "He turned away from Sara, looked at Claire and again gestured down the hall, "Right this way mam." Claire didn't know what to do, she had to seeJoey but she couldn't leave Sara out here alone not knowing if she would she him again. Sara saw the question in her eyes and decided that she shouldn't have to ask it.

"Just go." She whispered. "He needs you." She held the eyes of the woman she loved for over a decade, and saw in them the fear of the next few hours of their lives and just for the briefest moment she saw that despite everything Claire still loved her back. She watched as Claire first walked then ran to their son's hospital room. She watched as the doctor refused to make eye contact and walked away. Then she sat there, waiting for word that her son had died. She looked down the hall to his room and thought...would she get away with it... would someone find out...she didn't care. She got out her phone and dialed a number.

* * *

... soo I'll try and have more up soon. Hopefully no more writers block. Please reveiw. 


	13. Chapter 13

I don't own CSI

Theres a little swearing in this one.

* * *

1986 - San Fransisco. 

She pulled an oversized sweater over her thin body. The sleaves were too long but the old wool was soft against her fingers. It was her mothers and some days despite it having been washed hundered of times since she last wore it, Sara could still smell her mothers scent on it. It hung from her shoulders and though it didn't keep her very warm, it hid the lesions and the wasting effects of her disease, the three layers underneath it would keep her warm. She ran a towel through her damp hair again and let it fall around her face. It was six thirty, breakfast was always at seven, giving the girls either an hour or an hour and a half before the busses came to take them to school, depending on which one they went to. Riverwood home for girls was basically like a state run orphanage for girls in the system aged 13 to 18, with no where else to go. Some had been kicked out of foster homes for their behaviour, others had run away from the placements so many times that social services had given up trying to place them, and occasionally their were kids like Sara whose foster parents had encountered a situation that they couldn't handle and given them up for false reasons, in her case her behaviour,and rather then place her with another family and risk other childrens saftey had sent her here.

Sara finished getting dressed and made her way to the cafeteria for breakfast. She usually sat alone, prefering not to socialise. The few friends she had ever made in foster placements or even here had always left for one reason or another. She grabbed a bowl of cereal and sat down at a table in the far corner, only to be joined by another girl around her age.

"Can I sit here?" The girl asked. She sat down without waiting for an answer.

"I guess." Sara mumbled with her spoon in her mouth. She looked at the girl. Her hair was cut to just below her ears, and was a mixture of a white blonde, black and bright blue. Her eyes were grey, and framed by long eyelashes coated in blue mascara. Her nose was peirced with a small silver stud and her gorgeous, full lips had been subjected to a thick covering of dark blue lipstick. Her clothes however rather then continuing the goth effect consisted of tight jeans and a white v-necked sweater. Sara had to laugh at the effect.

"Hey don't laugh," The girl warned, "my school has a dresscode and if I get into anymore trouble their kicking me out. To bad for them they don't have any rules on hair or makeup." She showed Sara a small grin.

"You don't seem like the type to care about getting kicked out."

"Yeah but if I do the only place left to send me is that catholic school they send all the deliquents to. Trust me I think I'd die there." Sara reciprocated the small grin.

"So whats your name?"

"Ashley. You?"

"Sara."

"So which school do you go to Sara?"

"The catholic one they send all the deliquents to." Ashley made a poor attempt to supress a smile and shook her head.

"So why arn't you wearing that fucked up uniform?" Sara didn't reply she just pulled the neck of her sweater down to reveal a grey and white tartan tunic. Now it was Ashleys turn to laugh. "What did do to get sent there?"

"Officially, I was beating up on my five year old foster brother." Ashley looked a little surprised.

"And unofficially."

Sara just shrugged. "There was some stuff that happened, they wanted to get rid of me." Ashley gave her a small smile and nodded. "You haven't been here long have you?" Sara asked softly.

"How'd you know?"

"I just think I would of noticed you around thats all...ah it doesn't matter really." Sara lowered her eyes back to her cereal, raised a spoonfull of it to her mouth, but lowered it again without eating. "You been in the system long?" She asked.

"Since I was six." Ashley's voice held no real sadness or anger over this. She was very matter of fact about it. "You?"

"Ah since I was eleven." Ashley smiled at her.

"So I guess I'm the veteren. I gotta go." She got up and started to leave, then turned back to Sara. "Don't tell anybody I smiled at you. I gotta reputation to uphold." Sara laughed at her as she walked away, then finished her breakfast.

* * *

Sara stood over the sink in bathroom at her school, she was hunched over it both hands supporting her weight. She couldn't stop coughing. Her throat was raw and each cough made it worse. Her chest hurt and she felt like she would thow up if she didn't stop soon. Her chest heaved she coughed again, she stopped to breath in some air but only managed a little bit. She waited for the coughing to start up again. It didn't. She slowly took in some more air, released it and rested her head on the cool porcelain for a moment. She jerked up quickly when she the door open and three girls in her year burst through it. 

"Hey look its another group home freak." It was a blonde cheerleader type speaking, the two girls she had in tow started giggling. The blonde looked at Sara, "So can I ask a question about Riverwood?"

Sara didn't answer.

"Hey I asked you a question! You say yes or no."

"No." Sara replied. The blonde faked dissapointment.

"Oh and I so wanted to know if you girls all fucked each other at night, in a big orgy." Sara hung her head low, she was sick of this girl, she lifted he head and smiled politely at the blonde.

"Well yeah we do, but you know, I'm sorry we don'twant you, but you know what you could try the boys home. I'm sure they'd love to have you. Excuse me." Sara left the bathroom and heard the word bitch as she left. She was about to take off down the hall whe she heard them continue.

_"What a freak."_

_"You know her mother stabbed her father to death."_

_"I heard she stabbed him over a hundred times and she was still going when the police got there and that they had to force her off him."_

_"My god."_

_"You know what I heard that her mother was just covering for her, that is was Sara who killed him, 'cos he having sex with."_

_"Nah she probably killed him because he wasn't fucking her." They all laughed._

_"EEEWWWW! Thats creepy!" They laughed again._

Sara took off down the hall.

* * *

This time she did throw up. She had been coughing for three days now and it just kept getting worse. She was in the bathroom at Riverwood. Thankfully no-one had come in yet. She flushed the toilet and kept on coughing. Her chest and throat hurt and she was pretty sure she had a fever. At that moment the door open at least this time she knew she wouldn't get a serve over living in the home, rumours about her parents however were fair game here. She tried not to cough but couldn't stop herself. She heard a voice. 

"Hey are you ok?"

That was Ashleys vioce. She didn't want to open the door. She kept coughing.

"Hey come on you don't sound so good. Mabey you open the door." She reached up to unlock it and pushed the door open.

"Sara."

"Hey" She managed a hoarse greeting. Ashley knelt down beside her in the stall.

"Are you ok?" Sara tried to speak again.

"Yea...I'm...fine."

"Yeah right. Stay here I'm gonna go get someone." Ashley took off out of the bathroom.

_Where am I gonna go,_ she thought.

A minute later Ashley returned with one one the social workers. Sara turned around to look at him. He was attractive, lean muscular body, light brown hair that was a little shaggy, clear, friendly hazel eyes, and a concerned look on his face. He knelt down beside her and looked her over. She was thin, too thin, and he thought he saw ahint of a lesion on her neck. No he must have been imagining it. He'd been around too many sick people lately. Then she started coughing again. He knew that cough well. She was sick.

"Hey I'm Joseph.You can call me Joey. Whats you name."

"Sa..._she coughed_...Sar..._another cough_...Sara."

"Hey Sara. I think were gonna need to take you to a hospital ok. Can you stand up?" Sara tried but couldn't support her weight. Joey helped her. He took her to the reception desk and told the woman in charge of it where he was taking her .

"Can I come with you?" Ashley asked. He wanted to let her, but knew he couldn't.

"I'm sorry you're gonna have to stay here. I let you knowwhat happens ok." Ashley started to protest but knew she was wasting time.

"Ok."

She watched as he put her in his car and drove down the road.

* * *

Hehe got through that one with no writers block!


	14. Chapter 14

Ok here so heres the next part... Did you all have a good christmas or whichever holiday you celebrate?

I don't own CSI

* * *

As it turned out the doctor was wrong. Joey had made it through the night. Sara had tried a few times to get into his room but each time a doctor or a nurse was still there. She didn't want to make a scene. She didn't get in until later that night when Claire had asked a young male nurse if she could come in. He had come up to Sara and smiled at her in the deserted waiting room and quietly asked her to follow him. 

She hadn't been prepared for what she'd seen. She was expecting tubes and monitors, IV's and other medical indignities inflicted upon his tiny body. But there was nothing, not a single tube or needle, not even a heart monitor. He looked tired but not scared. His body was small and unmoving on the bed. His dark messy red hair stood out in contrast to crisp white sheets, and his pale skin. He was asleep.

She hadn't said anything. There were no words for that moment. Sara pulled a chair towards the bed and took Claire's hands in her own and they had sat like that for several hours. Both watching the rise and fall of Joey's chest. Both holding their own breath when he was slow to draw in more air. They sat like that until the creaking of the door stole their attention and woke Joey. The door opened a little further and a man stepped quietly through the small opening he had created. Sara smiled at him. He stood with one hand behind his back and walked up to Joey's bed. He bent down towardshim and produced an object from behind his back covered with a dark brown towel. Joey's tired eyes had watched with confusion. The man pulled the towel slowly and gently off the object to reveal a young bald eagle. Joey's once tired eyes had filled with amazement at the sight and his smile nearly broke Claire's heart. It was a baby egale with one injured wing and a bad leg. It sat quietly in the hands of the man it had come to know as a friend, someone who was helping him get better.

Joey laughed and for the first time tonight he spoke. "What happened to him."

"I don't know, a woman found him like this and brought him in."

What's his name?"

"I haven't given him one yet." The man replied. "Can you help me come up with one?"

"I can't think of one."

"Can I call him Joseph?" The man asked. Joey smiled at him.

"Sure. Can I touch him?"

"Go ahead, he doesn't bite." The man lowered the bird and Joey reached out and touched his back. His smile grew wider, and so did Claires until she heard someone coming down the hall. The man heard it to. "I better go." He said.

"Thank you."

"Your welcome." he said softly. He covered the bird over again and quickly left the room, a minute later a nurse came in to check on Joey she was surprised to see him smiling, but didn't say anything. She left the room.

Joey looked at Claire. "It was beautiful wasn't it mom."

"Yeah. It was" She fought back tears. He had tried to speak to Sara but started having trouble breathing. His chest rose only slightly and fell quickly both moves accompanied by a hoarse wheeze that Sara knew well. He couldn't breath and looked frightened, his panic just made it worse. Sara put her hand on his cheek and a finger to his lips to quiet him. She started to sing to him. It was a soft french lullaby her mother used to sing to her. Her voice was hesitant and unsteady but it comforted him enough for his breathing return to normal she kept singing as he drifted off to sleep.

The next morning he was well enough to go home. Then later that morning, in Sara's bed he died.

* * *

Sorry I know you didn't want me to do it but its just how the story evolved. 


	15. Chapter 15

Hey thanks for the reveiws guys. Just letting you know that this story isn't over yet. Still got the aftermath, flashbacks, Gregs case... few more things I might throw in...

I don't own CSI.

Before you read this I'd like to apologise for any errors I make in this chapter regarding medical facts, procedures or HIV/AIDS treatment, and drug trials in the 80's. I'm not a doctor or an expert in HIV/AIDS.

* * *

**1986**

Sara could hear the doctors working above her. She was too tired to keep her eyes open. She felt them insert tubes, connect monitors, she felt needles pierce her skin and tape holding them in. She fell asleep.

She heard a voice. Female, she sounded like a doctor.

"Are you her father, her gardian?" Next was a male voice, familiar.

"No I'm Joseph Taylor, I'm a social worker with Riverwood Home for Girls." Back to the womans voice.

"The group home? She lives there?"

"Yes."

"Can you make descision regarding her health?"

"Only in emergencies."

"This is an emergency. This girls has PCP andshe tested positive for HIV. She has AIDS."

"I guessed as much."

"It's not in her file?"

"I don't know I only met her today."

"Its not." This voice was weak, it her own. The doctor looked down at her.

"Hi sweetheart. Welcome back, we were kindaworried about you." She checked on her vitals,and adjusted a few dials on the machines. She sat down in a chair beside Sara's bedand smiled at her. "I need to ask you a few questions in a little bit ok, but first I'm gonna tell you a few things." The doctor was a large african american woman. She had very short black hair and warm smile. Sara nodded. The doctor started in a soft, gentle voice.

"I'm Doctor Williamson. I'm a pediatrician." Sara nodded her understanding.

"You have tested positive for HIV." Sara nodded.

"Do you know what HIV is?" Sara nodded.

"Have you ever been tested for it before?" Sara nodded.

"When was that?"

"A...a year ago." She had a mask over her face. That combined with the worsening infection in her chest made her voice come out in barely a whisper.

"Have you ever been treated for HIV." This time Sara shook her head. "Do you know what an oppurtunistic infection is?" Sara shook her head again. Dr. Williamson took a deep breath.

"Ok. I'm gonna give you a quick lesson on HIV." Sara nodded. The doctor kept her voice soft and calm. "It's a virus that is spread through bodily fluids, that includes blood, semen and vaginal secretions." She checked on Sara, she was calm and attentive. "When HIV infects the body it attacks your white blood cells, in particular your T-cells. Your T-cell are a part of your immune system they help your body fight colds, and infections and things like that. When HIV attacks the T-cells it kills them. Your body can't replace those T-cells as quickly as HIV kills them, so your T-cell count drops. Are you still following me?" She looked at Sara and waited for a response, the girl was looking a little worried but nodded in reply. "Are you ok?"

"Yeah"

"Ok. When your T-cell count drops you become more susceptible to certain infections. These are called opportunistic infections. If you develop any one of these infections or if your T-cell count which is also known as your CD4 count drops below 200 that means you have developed AIDS. Are you still with me?"

Sara nodded. "Do..I have...it."

"Yes. You have PCP, thats Pneumocystis Pneumonia, Thats an opportunistic infection and your CD4 count is 94. See these lesions on your arms." She pointed to the purple marks on Sara's left forearm. "Thats called Karposi's Sarcoma, or KS. Its a form of AIDS related cancer. Those three things indicate that your HIV has progressed to AIDS."

She watched Sara for a few moments to see if she was ok. Her breathing rate started to increase. She was panicking. Dr. Williamson put her hand on Sara's cheek "Its okay sweetheart. I want you to concentrate on your breathing." She spoke slowly to calm Sara down. "Take a deep breath in okay it might hurt a bit, but try to breathe." Sara tried to breathe in and it did hurt. She heard herself wheezing and only got a small amount in. She heard the doctors voice.

"Okay now hold it for a few moments." Sara wanted to let go. She felt like she was suffocating. "Okay now release it." She let go of the air. Dr Williamson heard the wheezing and noticed that it was getting worse. She sighed and continued to help Sara get her panic attack under control.

* * *

She had been in hospital for a week now. Most of her doctors including Dr. Williamson didn't think she would survive the PCP. But she was making progress.While the infection had not recceded, it had stopped spreading through her lungs. She wasn't breathing any eaiser yet though, and her chest still ached when she coughed. She had been recieving treatment, but her doctors where discussing the possibility of needing a second round of the drug. She wasn't worried about this, she trusted the doctors, they knew what they were doing. 

A few days after she had been hospitalised Joey had come to see her. He had asked her about her knowledge of her HIV status.

"So you were tested before."

"Yeah...my...foster parents took me 'cos of the l..les..K..S."

"And what did your parents do?"

"Got..rid...of me."

"So that incident with your foster brother..."

"They...made it...up."

"I'm sorry they did that to you. I'm gonna make sure that there is an investigation, into it."

Sara knew that he would try, but she didn't think anything wold come of it. A few days after that he had come back with Ashley. She was still sporting her multicoloured hair and blue makeup, but this time had added a pair of black pants, and dark red top to the look.

"Now that...makes...more...sense." Ashley had looked at her with confusion for a moment.

"Oh you mean my clothes. Well there's no asshole principal here." Her language got her a stare from Joey. She just smiled sweetly back at him.

"I'll give you guys some space." With that he had laughed and left the room. Ashley looked back at Sara. She saw the all the machines and equipment she was hooked up to.

"You look like shit." She said with a smile.

"Well... gee...thanks."

"Does that hurt?" Ashley was refering to the end of the IV that was going into the back of her hand.

"Not really...I..forgot...it was...there."

"Are you contagous. I'm sorry I don't know much about AIDS?"

"Only...my blood...stuff like that." Ashley nodded.

They had talked for half an hour or so before Joey came back in the room to take Ashley back to the home.

* * *

Two weeks later, to the surprise of her doctors, she had recovered from the PCP. Her doctors told her that the KS was limited to her skin, that it had not spread to her mouth, gastrointestinal tract, lungs or lymph nodes. Dr. Williamson told her that she was a good candidate for a drug trial that was currently being conducted. The drug was AZT. 

"Does it work?" Sara asked, she knew that there was no effective treatment for HIV or AIDS.

"There are reports that indicate that it is effective. But nobody knows for sure. Thats why their conducting the trial. Without people who are willing to get involved in the trials, there will never be a treatment."

"Okay. I'll do it."

* * *

They were making her take the drugs every four hours around the clock. That ment a nurse would come in at midnight and wake her up to take a pill. Then at four am, then 8. She would take them at midday, four pm, 8pm, and again at midnight. Every day, and it did nothing. It broke Dr. Williamson's heart to watch Sara waste away while taking so many pills that did nothing, and it scared her to think that this drug may not be an effective treatment for people with AIDS. 

She didn't figure it out for another few weeks. She was reading a report on another drug trial. It was the double blind. It wasn't that the drugs wern't working, she knew that they were working for other patients, it was that Sara wasn't getting the drugs. She was getting a placebo. Probably sugar pills. She wanted to hate them for it. Putting a kid in the control group. But it was protocol. Sara was going to die because of protocol.

* * *

Let me know what you think. 


	16. Chapter 16

Hey thanks for the reveiws guys. Here's the next part

Again any medical mistakes I make I apologise in advance for.

I don't own CSI.

* * *

They decided to have him cremated. It had been two days since he had died and the plan was to fly back to SanFransisco to organise his funeral. Sara had been watching Claire these past two days. She looked lost. Stuck somewhere between the shock and the greif of a mother who lost a child so suddenly and the painful, relief of one who spent years caring for and loving a terminally ill child, knowing he was not suffering anymore. Sometimes she would hold one of his toys and cry, others she would wander around Sara's apartment not knowing what to do with herself.

They were catching a flight to SanFransisco tonight and were packing. Sara hadn't known what to do with Joey's stuff. She had sat with Claire surrounded by it for hours neither of them saying much. In the end they decided to take it with them and figure it out when they got there. Later, Sara was in the bathroom sorting through pill bottles. Most were hers, she thought for a moment about how many pills she had taken in her life, in the last twenty years, how many Joey had taken. She grabbed the three bottles that were his and was deciding wether to throw them out or pack them when someone knocked on the door. She walked over and looked through the peephole.

"Brass?" She said as she opened the door.

"Sara? I ah I'm looking for a Dr. Claire Matthews. We interveiwed her several days ago, she gave this as her address."

"Yeah shes here. Is this important?" Sara didn't want to bother Claire with this. Not today.

"I'm afraid it is. We found her fingerprints on the murder weapon at a crime scene. We've got a warrent for her arrest." Sara was floored.

"What...uh are you sure?" Brass looked at her. Dr Matthews had told them that she was staying in Vegas with her ex. Sara was her ex? Was Sara gay? He hadn't spotted that. "Look Brass there's a problem with your timeline Greg knows about it. She was with me." Brass didn't have the heart to tell her that he hadn't been able to confirm Claire's alibi.

"I'm sorry Sara I'm gonna have toask you to step aside." He didn't want to look at her, but he did, she was confused she moved to the side a little bit andBrass had to step around her to enter the apartment. Claire had heard the commotion and was on her way out to see what was going on. She was surprised when she saw the detective again.

"Detective Brass?"

"Claire Matthews," He walked towards her as he spoke, "I'm placing you under arrest for the murder. You have the right to remain silent." Brass continued to read Claire her rights as Sara realised that Greg was here to search her apartment, in tow was Grissom and Nick. Greg spoke softly to her.

"We have a warrent to search you apartment Sara." She was still in shock, she stepped aside and let the three of them in. Grissom stopped beside Sara and spoke to her.

"I'm sorry about this Sara." She looked at him. He could see her shock dissapating and her anger breaking through. She didn't say anything and walked away.

"Greg, take the living room, Nick, kitchen and bathroom. I'll take the bedrooms."

* * *

Greg did a walk through of the room noting the arrangements of furniture, the bright colours, stacks and stacks of books. The place was a mess. He had expected Sara to be a lot cleaner then this. He walked over to her desk, ran his glove over the surface and began rubbing his fingers together to remove the dust. Hediscovered however that there was no dust on his fingers. He took another look around and changed his original assesment. It was very clean but Sara didn't seem to believe in the old saying that there is a place for everything and everything has its place. He saw two plane tickets on her table. He picked them up and examined them. Same thick paper, same airline. He bagged them.

* * *

Nick started in the kitchen. It wasn't really seperated from the living room by any walls just different paint, furniture and appliances. He went through her drawers and came up empty. On the bench however was a set of knives that matched the murder weapon. A chill went through his body. One was missing, this changed things. The time frame for the murder was verytight. There wouldn't have been time for Claire to come here and get the knife. That ment that Sara had to havegiven it to her. He bagged the set of knives and continued on to the bathroom. 

Her bathroom was very clean. He did a quick once over of the room and foundnothing abnormal or out of place. He stopped for a moment and stared at his image in the mirror. He couldn't believe that Sara had been involved in this. That she would be friends with someone who was capable of such a horrific act. But all the evidence was pointing towardsthem.

"Damit Sara! Why would you..." His voice was an angry whisper. He ripped his gloves off and threw them in her empty waste basket. Then he took a moment to calm himself down. Nick got back to work, puttingfresh gloves on before he opened the drawers under her sink. He rummaged through them, finding nothing. He closed the drawer, knocking her toothbrush off in the process. He picked it up, fiddeling with it absent mindedly, while he went through her medicine cabnet. It was full of pill bottles and boxes.

"Man! Thats alot of pills." He picked up one of the bottles and read the lable. "Retrovir?" He though for a moment. What was that for? It was on the tip of his tongue. AIDS. "Shit!" He dropped the bottle back on to the shelf and her toothbrush into he sink. His heart was pounding. He took his gloves off for a second time. With both hands shaking, he inspected them for any cuts. His right hand was fine, but that one hadn't held the tooth brush. On the left was a small paper cut on the tip of his index finger, it was almost healed. He knew there was no risk, but just to be sure he picked up the left glove and checked the correponding finger, nothing, no holes.

* * *

Grissom started in Sara's spare room. There were clothes everywhere, did something happen in here? No. Someone was packing. There was a pile of clothes already folded and sitting in a suitcase. Childrens clothing. Claire's son. Sara had told him that he was very sick. Where was he? He looked around the room. The only things that seemed out of place were the clothes everywhere, the suitcase and a pile of papers on he bed. Grissom put on a pair of gloves and picked up the large yellow envelope from the top of the pile. Underneath it was a hand written list. He didn't recognise the handwritting. It could be Claires, he thought. It was a to do list, the tasks all related to organising a funeral. The little boy had died.

* * *


	17. Chapter 17

Nick, Greg and Grissom met up in Sara's kitchen, the place was empty now except for the cop accompanying them.

"I found a couple of plane tickets in the living room. Same airline as the ones at the crime scene." Greg shared the results of his search with his colleagues.

"I got a set of kinves in the kitchen, same as type as the murder weapon. One's missing though. There's no way that Dr. Matthews could of made it back here to get the knife then back to the scene." Nick was still shaken by the incident in the bathroom.

"You don't think Sara's involved in this do you?" Greg wasn't sure if he was defending his friend or his opinion of the case.

"Well I don't wanna believe it either Greg, but she lied to you to cover for her friend and..."

"We don't know she lied! We just couldn't find the owner of the cafe to confirm her story!"

"Guys!" Grissom broke up the argument. "Dr. Matthews has a little boy. I know that he was very sick, I think he may have died in the last couple of days." He showed them the handwritten list he had found.

"AIDS." Nick said quickly.

"What." Grissom turned his attention to him.

"He died of AIDS. There were medications in bathroom cabinet, lots of them."

"Yeah there's some more bottles on the table beside the door. Lable says they're prescribed to a Joseph Matthews." Grissom looked at the two men, they were jumping to conclusions, they didn't even know yet if the child was dead or alive. He had a theory about the pills in the bathroom though. He left them disscussing the bottles and went to check it. He though about the bruises he had seen on Sara's arms when he had first met her, it hadn't occured to him at the time and he wasn't sure, but as he read the lable on the bottle he confirmed it. The pills were Sara's.

* * *

"Look I've told you again and again. We went straight from the airport to the cafe. I didn't kill three men on the way." Brass watched the woman as she spoke. She seemed calm or maybe tired, he wasn't sure. 

"Well I'm sorry but we haven't been able to locate the owner of the store to confirm that. Let me ask you another question," He changed topics to try to throw her, "Where is your son?" Claire closed her eyes.

"He passed away two days ago." _Oh_

"How did he die?" _Guess I'll run with it_

"He had AIDS."

"How did he get that?" _Get her trust_

"Thats none of your buisness." Brass stayed silent. It was one of the best ways to get someone to talk, get them tofill in the silence. Claire however was well aware of the tactic, she challenged his silence with her own. Brass broke first.

"Okay le'me guess. You get infected. You get pregnant, you have the baby and discover somewhere along the line that he has HIV." _Ah damn! Not gonna get her trust now_

"He didn't get it from me."

"Hemophilia?" _I think I'm on a tangent_

"All blood products are screened these days, but no he doesn't have hemophilia."

"I don't know...he stepped on a needle!" O_k I'm done with this topic_

"He didn't step on it." O_r not_

"But it was a needle."

"Yes."

"But he didn't step on it." _Greiving mother...m__aybe I can get her trust..._

"No."

"Dirty needle at a vaccination?"

"Doctors only use needles once Detective I'm sure you know that." _Your losing it old man_

"Where did the needle come from." _Speak softly don't piss her off_

"Sara. She was using Methamphetamine."_ Well..._

"She got an infected needle?"

"All her needles were infected after she used them." _Jesus_

"So what, your son was playing with one..." _This can't be good_

"No. She was very carefull with them." _Carefull junkie. Thats a new one_

"So how did it happen."

"Mike. A friend of Sara's, made a few enemies one night, tried to hide in our house, but they followed him, got angry, thought Joey was Mike's son and got revenge."

"With one of Sara's old needles?"

"Yeah but he filled it with her blood first." _Leave it to shrinks to know how to shock you_

"Do you know who these guys were?"

"No. Addicts. Mike was a dealer. Still might be. I don't know."

"You ever seen them again?" _All three men were known drug offenders. Possible motive_

"No." _I don't think I'm getting any more out of her tonight_

"Decetctive Brass." The voice belonged to a young cop with a file in his hand. He handed it to the detectiveand left. Brass opened the file and read over the new information. Then he felt a little sick.

"Okay let me get a few things straight," He kept his voice calm and steady._ Bad time to lose her._ "Sara Sidle is your ex-girlfriend right?"

"Yes."

"This report states that there were a few domestic incidents at your residence in SanFransisco several years back."

"Yes there were."

"Did you hurt Sara." _If you say yes..._

"Haha. No I never hurt Sara." _Wife beaters...always liars...hang on..._

"Did she hurt you?" _Please say no_

"Yes." _Ah shit_


	18. Chapter 18

Hey guys thanks for the comments, I appreciate the recomedations too. Here's the next part.

* * *

Sara sat in the break room of the Las Vegas Crime lab. She needed to talk to Greg, to explain where they were when the murder happened. Only she hadn't been able to find him. She rested her forehead in the palm of her hand as she thought about Claire being questioned by the police, she shouldn't be there, she should be on her way home. She should see her family, her friends, not be alone in an interogation room. Claire's family, after everything that had happened, they would probably shoot Sara on sight. She didn't blame them. 

She sat and watched as people walked passed the room, oblivious to her scrutiny. _Old man, maintanence guy, pretty redhead. _For a moment, the redhead became Claire. Her soft features, dark and scared, bruised, with bleeding lips. She closed her eyes and counted to three to get rid of the image. When she opened her them, the woman was just the nameless redhead again. She brought her hands up to rub her tired eyes, knocking a pile of magazines off the arm of the sofa with her elbow. They landed on the floor with a thud. The sound echoed in her ears. It was followed by memories of screaming, the crash as Claire's body hit the bookshelf, the wall. She heard Claire scream as a book went fly towards her.  
_"Sara!"_

"Sara." She heard it again. _Wait...no._

"Sara." _That's Nick. _Sara looked up at him.

"Hey, sorry Nick."

"You shouldn't be here." He didn't look at her as he spoke, in fact he kept his back towards her.

"I know I just need to tell Greg something. I don't suppose you know where he is do you?" She adjusted her position in the chair so that she was leaning forward.

"You know what Sara he's a good CSI, maybe you should trust him." His voice was tense, and angry. That had surprised her, had he known about her phone call to Greg. It shouldn't matter though that was between her and Greg, and he knew she trusted him.

"I know that and I do, but I also know know that Claire was with me when the murder happened." She spoke firmly, letting him know she wasn't happy with his intrusion.

"We're just following the evidence Sara." _What. Thats a line we use on suspects!_

"Nick I don't care about your evidence! I know she didn't do it!" Sara was on her feet now, but Nick still didn't make any eye contact. "Jesus Nick. You're the one who always saying you can't just focus on evidence, you have to consider the people involved, why is..." He suddenly turned around, interupting her.

"What makes you think I'm not." He was angry. This couldn't be about Greg.

"What the hell does that mean?" He took a moment before he answered, he pressed his lips together, looked down at the floor,then back up at her.

"It means that someone who I considered a friend has told me a story that is completly contradictory to the evidence, so much so that I had to assume she was lying, and trust me, I didn't want to do that. But now today.." He stopped his gaze returning to the floor.

"Today what?" She wasn't letting him stop there.

"Today I found out that you've lied to me before, so it's not that much of a stretch that you would do it again."

"What is this about Nick?" her voice showing signs of her frustration.

"You never told me you were sick."_ They found my meds._

"I never lied to you about it either and you know what I'm not sick."

"It doesn't matter you shoulda told me!"

"It was private." She stayed calm. She had been in this situation before and knew that yelling never helped.

"Private! Well you know what it wouldn't have been so private if you had of gotten hurt on he job. Don't you think people have the right to know if their gonna be risking their lives just to help you?"

"Would you help a bleeding stranger on the street Nick?" He didn't answer. "I think you would. I also think, well I hope, that you would be smart enough to protect yourself, because you don't know what he might have, because he may not know if he's got something."

"Thats different."

"Why?"

"Because that strangers not a friend of mine that I'm around everyday!"

"What do live in a bubble Nick?" She was fighting to keep her cool. "You never pass anyone on the street. Do you honestly think that you have never come in to contact with anyone positive except me?" She sighed. _Calm down. _"You know what Nick, if this is really because you're scared for yourself and others, then...then thats okay. I can accept that. I wouldn't wish this disease on the worst people that we convict. But, if this is just because you didn't know, then don't you dare grab some easy issue to attack me with." She didn't wait for an answer and left the room. She got to the bathroom and went inside.

"Damnit!" She slammed her hand against the door frame. She had done this before. With every job she got and every friend she made there were those questions. Do I tell them? When? How will they react? She had been prepared for it fifteen years ago, when people were still scared and didn't have the facts. But to still have to do it today, among scientists no less. Intelligent educated people with access to the information. Not in my backyard, she thought. People are okay with something until it's right infront of themand they really have to face it.

She decided to give Nick some time. He had found out just hours ago, maybe he just needed to come to terms with it. She had experienced similar situations with her sexuality. She remembered a particular incident in collage which had brought the two issues together. A friend of hers, upon learning she had AIDS had said, "But thats a gay thing right?" She had explained to the girl that men who have sex with men are at an increased risk of contracting the virus, but that didn't make the disease a gay thing, before telling her that she was bisexual. The girl had avoided her for weeks after that, Until one afternoon when she had come up to her in the library and asked her to join her and her friends at a local bar. She hoped he just needed time.

* * *

A little short sorry about that. I tried to keep Nick in character, don't know how well I did...


	19. Chapter 19

Hey hey. Here's the next part. Thanks for the suggestions I'll keep it in mind.

I don't own CSI

Again I apologise in advance for any medical mistakes I may make.

**

* * *

**

**1986**

"I'm sorry Sara. I should have explained it to you better." Dr Williamson looked at her sadly as she reached over and took her hand .

"Its okay." Sara's voice was scratchy as she spoke, her throat raw from coughing. The begginings of another round with the PCP. "Would the drugs work...if I could get them?"

"I don't know for sure, but yes, they might. Only the problem is that I can't get you into any current trials becuase of the PCP, and even if I could there is no guarrantee that you would get the drugs this time around either." Her voice was soft, calm and matter of fact. She didn't want to confuse Sara. Or give her false hope.

She was getting attatched to her patient. Bad move.

So far she had treated all of the pediactric AIDS cases that had come into the hospital. There hadn't been many but of the ones there were, most of them were young boys with hemophilia, who had become infected through contaminated blood products. She'd treated one baby who had become infected in her mothers womb. With all of those cases however she had spoken mostly with the parents, not having any real personal contact withher youngpatients. This was the first time she'd had to disscuss things like HIV, AIDS, PCP, treatment, and drug trials directly with a child. The first time she had nothing more to say then 'I don't know what to do' to a child.It was taking it's toll on her. She wasn't sleeping well, and was picking fights with her husband. Last night they had argued over how long to cook peas for, of all the things they could have been concerned about. Peas. Sara's condition was getting worse, she'd gotten ahold of her blood work this morning. Her viral load was increasing and CD4 count was dropping, she was losing hope.

"So what now?" Sara, however wasn't, she seemed to be taking it one battle at a time. I have to swollow these pills now. I have to take another breath now. Dr Williamson tried to keep her own spirits up as high as Sara's. She stood up as she spoke.

"Now we get rid of that cough." She said with confidence she did not feel. Maybe Sara saw straight through it, but for now, it was all she could manage. I have to check on some other patients, I'll come check on you soon."

"Ok." Sara watched her as she left the room, just as she got to the door she said, "Dr Williamson,"

"Yes?" She turned around.

"What's your first name?" The question took her by surprise. She usually didn't give her fist name to patients, or their parents. To personal.

"Joanne." _Bad move girl._"You can call me Joey." Sara laughed a little. "Joey's my social workers name." Joanne raised her eyebrows and gave Sara an amused grin.

"It must be a good name then." Sara giggled as she left the room.

Sara's latest bout of PCP had dragged itself out for nearly a month. There were several nights when it reached its peak that her doctors thought she wouldn't make it. Dr Williamson had prepared for the worst. But the worst hadn't come. Sara had again survived the infection, and with no signs of getting ahold of AZT, she had started Sara on another antiviral drug. It had made her very sick, it wasn't designed for tiny, sick fifteen year olds. She'd had to take Sara off the drug so that she didn't kill her with it.

Sara spent the following months hooked up to IV's and swollowing pills. Some times it was a drug that did nothing, sometimes one that made her throw up all night. Sometimes it was a blood transfusion. On one occasion it was penicillian for a chest infection she had picked up. She had done all this in an isolation ward. She was currently the only child in the hospital with AIDS and had been in the pediatric ward. Some of the parents however,had kicked up a stink when they found out that their precious little Jane or Johnny was in the same ward as a child with AIDS "What if my son gets it! Well! What are yougonna do then?" Joanne wanted to put her with the adult AIDS patients, thinking that seeing other people going through the same thing she was going through would do her some good. Her plan had been shut down however, by hospital officials telling her that it was against hospital policy to put minors in with adults. So instead she had her moved to an isolation ward. This ment that no-one could enter without the appropriate protection. This ment masks and gloves.

So Sara had spent her time alone in a little room tucked away in the corner of the hospital counting the needles that went into her body and the lesions that appeared on the surface of it.She had a rather large one on her collar bone that she hadn't been able to see and hence hadn't known was there until Dr Williamson had pointed it out. It now poked out over the top of her gown. She had become very good at deciphering the muffled speech produced by thesurgical masks.She looked forward to the days when Joseph would bring Ashley to visit her. That would talk of silly things, the rumours Ashley had heard about some of the girls at Sara's school. Who fell over in the cafetieria at riverwood and landed face-first in her oatmeal. Sara would tell Ashley stories of creepy pateints who walked the halls. Like the guy from the psyc ward, Scotty, who always managed to sneak out and would wander the halls at night reciting bible verse in a loud whisper. Ashley of course didn't believe her, but Sara would watch her peer down the hall discretly everytime she left, just in case. Ashley would always take her mask of everytime that they were alone, it messed up her blue lipstick. They would giggle every time she rushed to put it back on when they heard someone coming.

"Ashley." Sara said one day her voice, nervous and worried.

"Yeah." Ashley looked at her, concern in her eyes.

"I need to ask you something, and I need you to be compleatly honest with me. Deal?" Ashley was scared Sara was never so heavy.

"Deal?" She took Sara's hand. "Whats wrong?"

"Why blue?" _Blue? What did that mean. Oh god._ She had heard about AIDS patients developing dementia. Was Sara losing it?

"What do you mean Sara?"

"Blue is an awful colour for lipstick." Sara started to giggle. "Why did you pick blue?" Ashley buried her head in both hands for looking at Sara and smacking her gently on the shoulder. Sara's giggling got worse, and it was catching. In moments they were in hysterics.

"I swear to god your gonna pay for that! Oh my god you scared the hell outta me! I thought you werelosing it!"

"I'm sorry." Sara said thought her laughter.

"No your not. But you know what I'll forgive you anyway." Ashley tried unsucsessfully to stop smiling as she spoke. "I'm still gonna get you back. You better watch it girl"

"Sure I'll do that."

"You know what I know what I'm gonna do to." Ashley eyes took on a mishievousgleam.

"What, what are you gonna do." Sara said sarcastically

"I'm gonna call you Scotty."

"No no no no not the creepy bible guy. Please." Sara's voice lost the sarcasm and took on, a begging quality. Ashley thought it was cute.

"Oh it's perfect." She looked up as if she'd just had a wonderful revelation. A huge grin crept across her face. "I love it. Scotty." Sara just glared at her.

"I bet you forget about it within a week."

"Are you pouting Scotty?"

"No." Ashley laughed. Sara just shook her head.

"Can I ask you something?" She stopped laughing.

"Oh no you don't!"

"No no. I'm serious Sara." Sara gave her a wary look.

"Okay..."

"Can you get HIV throught saliva?"

"No. Why?" Sara's question was answered when Ashley lowered her mask and placed a soft kiss on her lips. She watched Sara for a moment, then,

"Oh god." She covered her face and turned away "Oh god I'm sorry I shouldn't have done that. I'm Sorry. I should go."

"Hey hey. No wait." Sara reached out and grabbed her arm to stop her "I...why did...ah...do that again."

"W..what?" Sara pulled her closer. Ashley hesitated for a moment, then leaned down and kissed her again.

"Now you can go. But you better come back." Sara smiled.

"I will." Ashley left the room.

* * *

Joanne Williamson sat on a bench just outside the hospital sipping coffee. She was on a break. It was just after two in the morning, the streets near the hospital were eerily quiet. You could circle the entire block the hospital sat on and not see a single person outside the building. Of the people you did see most were employees in side the building, security guards mostly ,but other night shift employees were around, they'd pass by a window, a clipboard or a file in hand. In fact the only time you would see anyone who wasn't an employee was when you passed by the emergency room entrance. There would be people sitting in chairs, holding bloody towels to a broken and bloody nose, parents rubbing a sick childs back, people consoling each other. At random intervals an ambulance would leave or return. Joanne stayed away from that part of the hospital though. She enjoyed her breaks at this time of night. 

She watched as the first car she seen since she'd been out here drove past. Well she thought it would drive past. What in fact happened was that the car pulled up and parked alongside the curb. It was rusty, very old and looked as though it had once been white. Both passenger and drivers side doors opened but only one man stepped out. He looked young, but Joanne was sitting a fair distance away and couldn't be sure. He opened the back seat door and removed a wheelchair that had been wedged in there. It looked suscpicously like the ones that the hospital used. Finally the man in the passenger seat stepped out, his companion had to assist him, and once he got his friend in the chair he pushed him towards the hospital. As they got closer the guy in the chair pointed to Joanne and turned to say something to his friend, he seemed excited. They diverted directly towards her. She got nevous, there were no security guards around and the men were to close for her to make a quick and unnoticed exit. They stopped directly in front of her. She realised that the boy in the chair was only 18 or 19, and that he was very sick.

"Do you...have a...a patient named...Sara Sidle?" He really didn't seem to be asking, just checking.

"I can't tell you that." Joanne spoke firmly.

"Thats ok...If you...do or...if you...know" He started coughing. A cough that she knew well." If you ...know..her doctor...can you take this...please." He held out an old black gym bag. The minimal strain on the straps indicated that it was not heavy but the boy struggled with the weight. She didn't really know why she did it, but she took the bag immediatly.

"What is it?" Joanne asked.

"If...she's as...sick as I am...she needs it." He reached into his pocket and retrieved a folded peice of paper. "Please give...her this."

"Ok" Was all Joanne could say, she took the paper. And with that he left. She waited until he got into the car with his friend before she opened the bag. She didn't know why she hadn't pressed him for more information. Maybe because she already knew what would be in there, and the means by which it had been aquired. There in reused glass jam jars were pills, hundreds of them. She had no way to be sure. But she knew what they were. AZT.

* * *

So what do ya think? 


	20. Chapter 20

Ok so it took me a while to write this. I do have a reason for that though. Well two reasons. One is that I had trouble logging on and the second is just that I was lazy.  
There is a particular conversation in this chapter which is spoken compleatly in French. However it is written in English. This is because I don't speak French and didn't want to provide a crappy internet translator version of the language. I'm sure you'll know which one. Hope it's not confusing.

I don't own CSI

* * *

Greg followed Brass up to the front door of the small brick house. It was a nice place. Somebody obviously took care of it. There was a garden which followed the edges of the building. Greg, who had never done any gardening in his life, could only recognise the roses. Red, not quite in full bloom yet. The lawn, while perhaps a little over due for mowing, was neat, tidy and very green. They knocked on the door. When it opened, a short stocky man, somewhere in his fifties or sixties appeared.

"Good morning sir. I'm Decetctive Jim Brass, This is Greg Sanders from the crime lab. Is there a...Jimmy living here?" He didn't have a last name for the man that both Sara and Claire had repeatedly told them about, so he elaborated a little. "We got this address from a letter we found at his store, the cafe. There was no last name mentioned."

"You mean Jacques. I'm his brother Paul. He sometimes went by Jimmy. I'm afraid however, that you aretoo late. He passed away yeterday morning. What is this about?" The man spoke softly in heavy french accent. He was curious about what they wanted so soon after his brothers death, but not hostile. He ran a hand through his greying hair as he spoke.

"Oh. I'm sorry. He may have had some information on a crime that was committed recently." Brass did not let his surprise show in his voice. "May I ask, how he died?"

"He had a heart attack about a week ago. He did not pull through." Brass lowered his head and gave the man a small smile in apology.

"I don't suppose you were able to speak to him recently were you?"

"No I'm sorry. We hadn't spoken for around a month, too busy you know. I got a call from the hospital, but he was on life support, he never woke up." Paul began to look very tired. Brass quickly took Jimmy's information from Paul.

"Ok thank you for your help. I'm sorry for your loss." Paul nodded his thanks and closed the door as Brass and Greg left. They walked silently back to the car, both knowing this left Claire's alabi in doubt.

"So her alabi's dead." Brass said after they were back on the road.

"Yeah. I think ah...I think he was Sara's friend." Greg exhaled loudly.

"Yeah."

"I should tell her." Greg said as he pulled out his phone and dialed Sara's number. Brass looked quickly at him then concentrated back on the road, gratefull the young man had taken on the task. Greg listened as Sara's phone rang.

_"Sidle."_

"Sara. Hi it's Greg. How are you holding up?"

_"God I don't know at this point. I guess I'm okay."_

"Look Sara I've got some bad news for you. Brass and I spoke to your friend Jimmy from the cafe's brother this morning. I'm...I'm afraid he passed away yesterday morning. He had a heart attack." He heard Sara breathing increase on the other end of the line. "I'm Sorry."

_"Thank's for telling me. I'm sorry I ah..I have to go." _

"Okay. I'll speak to you soon. Bye." He hung up the phone.

* * *

Sara let her body drop to the couch. She had hardly known the man, and considering the current circumstances was unsure if her sudden saddness was due to his passing or the awful situation that it left Claire in. She brought her thumb and index finger up and wiped the tears from beneath her eyes. She took a deep breath and stretched out her fingers against her cheeks. A silent protest against her emotions. If she started crying now she didn't know is she could stop.

She stood up and walked quickly tothe bathroom. Passing Claire sleeping in her bed. Sara was glad she was finally getting some sleep. In the last few days she had not only lost her son sooner than she had expected, but had been arrested for the murders of three men she not even known let alone killed. Sara reached her bathroom and stared at her reflection in the mirror. Her hair was messy, her eyes sat, dull, and tired above dark half circles. She turned on the tap and cupped her hands underneath, collecting the cold water. She bent down and splashed it on her face. Twice. Wiping her face on a towel she realised that she had forgotten to take her meds this morning. Her heart suddenly raced.

"Damnit." She said to noone in particular. She threw the towel on the floor and opened her medicine cabinet. Reached for several bottles, tipping pills in her hand as she went. She stared at the collection of powerful drugs she held in her hand. Hating them for the first time since they had saved her life. How is it that they could keep her going for long after they were expected to, and not her son. Why was she still alive almost twenty years after being diagnosed, when so many, who had recieved the same news at the same time, had only lasted two or three.

She closed her fingers around them in a tight fist, then relaxed her hand and threw them into the back of her mouth. She added water and forced herself to swollow. She picked up one of the bottles and returned in to the shelf, knocking over a bottle of mouth wash in the process. It cluttered to the sink below, taking the pills, a tube of toothpaste and a box of band-aids with it.

"Shit." She said as she tried to grab all four objects and pile them in the cabinet at once. Her attempt failed. All the items fell to the tiled floor.

"Ahh!" She let out a cry of frustration, Reached down and grabbed the bottle. She looked at it in her hand for a moment then flung it at the wall. The plastic container cracked open and pills fell everywhere.

She grabbed the next one off the sink and threw it at the same spot. It didn't break but it hit the wall and fell to the floor, both with a satisfing clatter as the pills struck the sides of the container.

She grabbed another one, and again, hurled it at the wall. This time though her eyes had begun to fill with tears and her vision had become blurry. She missed the wall and the bottle flew out the door narrowly missing Claire's face, who had come to see what Sara was doing. For a moment Sarasaw fear in Claire's eyes. Whenshe had been using, one of the first things she would do when she got angry was throw something. Sometimes it had just been aimed at the wall. Often it wasn't aimed at all. Occasionally it had been deliberatly aimed at the wall very close to Claire. Very occasionally it aimed at Claire. The moment passed and Claire stepped into the room.

"I...I'm..." Sara tried to apologise but by this point she was crying freely. She covered her mouth with one hand.

"Sshh hey." Claire tried to sooth her. "Its okay baby." She placed both hands on Sara's neck her thumbs resting gently behind each ear. Sara slid down the wall of the bathroom, to a sitting position. Her knees bent and her legs drawn up close to her body. Claire knelt down beside her. As a psychiatrist, she knew that different people reacted differently to grief. She also knew that different people needed different types of comfort. And she knew Sara. Sara would always just want someone there. They didn't have to speak. They didn't even have to touch although it helped if they did. So Claire sat down beside her and gently took her hand, lacing her fingers in between Sara's. She lether cry.

After a while, Sara looked up, suddenly remebering something. She stood up quickly, placing her hands against the wall behind her for leverage.Claire watched with confusion as she took off out of the room. She found her in the bedroom. Sara was rummaging through a drawer. She stopped when she found a box, and took it out. Inside the box were photos. Sara took out a paper envelope and handed it to Claire. Inside she saw photos of Joey's third birthday, they had taken him to the beach. She hadn't seen them before. Most of the shots were herself and Joey. Some were just of Joey. Sara wasn't in any, she must have been behind the camera Claire realised.

"I found the roll of film a few weeks after I moved here. Got it developed." Sara said through her dried up tears. As Claire looked through the photos. She felt her composure weaken. By the time she had gotten to the end. The roles had been reversed. Now it was Sara comforting her as she cried. Unlike Sara, Claire needed to be held. So that was what she did. Claire cried for over an hour as they were lying on the bed. Finally she fell asleep. Sara soon follwed. They both dreamt.

* * *

Claire's dreams were all of Joey. The day he was born. Red hair, green eyes and virus free. She dreamt of the first time she held him. Looking down at his screwed up little face as he screamed. Then smiling after seeing his eyes when he stoppped.

She dreamt of his first birthday, his smile as he had more fun with the torn paper and empty boxes that his presents had come in then the presents themselves. And she dremt of the day he got HIV. The knife being held under her throat. The man getting angry when he realised she knew nothing about the guy he had broken into her house to find. She dreamt of Mike taking off after he was recognised. She dreamt of the blood that trickled down her throat as she struggled against him to get away. To stop his friend from taking Sara's blood and injecting it into her terrified son. She dreamt of the words he had spoken to her just before they left. _"That outta teach Mike to mess with me. See how he likes seein' his son die from that whores disease." _

She woke up with a start. She looked over at Sara and saw that she was asleep. She curled up closer to her and went back to sleep.

* * *

Sara didn't dream of Joey. She had been doing that every night since he had died. This time she dreamt of Jimmy. The first time she met him.

_She slowed her car to a stop as she pulled into the small parking lot outside the cafe. She was half asleep from a long shift and needed coffee. She looked at the door hoping for a sign that it was open, it was. She pushed the door open and walked inside. Before she had even gotten to the counter the man behind it spoke._

_"Let me guess. You want coffee. Oui?" He had startled her and it took her a moment to decipher the words through his accent._

_"Ah Oui. I Suppose you get alot of that at this time of night." She spoke to him in fluent french, which she had learned from her mother. He smiled at her as he poured the dark liquid into a cup. Sara sat down on a stool near the counter._

_"Are you french?" He asked her, also speaking in french._

_"My mother is. She taught me." He nodded and took a seat opposite her behind the counter._

_"So what do you do?"_

_"I'm a criminalist. I work crime scenes."_

_"Must be a difficult job sometimes."_

_"Sometimes it is. Have you had this place long?"_

_"Thiry years."_

_"Wow. Long time. Don't you ever just want a change."_

_"No. I like my life." She smiled at him. They continued to speak of all sorts of things as she finished her coffee and a second. As she was leaving she turned around to him and asked,_

_"What's your name?"_

_"Call me Jimmy."_

_"Sara." And she left._

Sara woke up to see Claire still sleeping beside her. She brushed some hair out of the womans eyes and went back to sleep.

_

* * *

_

Ok so not a lot happened ut I felt it was an important chapter. Now I can get back to plot.


	21. Chapter 21

This was suppossed to be a plot chapter. You know the three dead guys a lead up to what happened. But I just couldn't get it written. So you get this instead.

I don't own CSI

And just a quick note. I know nothing about the foster care system in america, especially in the 80's. So I apologise for any errors I make. Oh and drug trial apology again here.

Wow this chapter took a while to get out. Sorry it's a little short.

* * *

**1986**

Dr Williamson didn't tell Sara about the pills. Instead, she decided to discharge her. She spoke to her social worker Joseph Taylor about where to send her.

"She can't go back to that home she needs the proper care." Dr Williamson said.

"Then why are you discharging her if she's not well enough." Joseph couldn't understand why she was giving up, he knew that Sara certainly wasn't ready to.

"She's never gonna be well enough. I don't want her to die in here alone, in an isolation ward!" They were just outside Sara's room, and hence were speaking in angry whispers.

"The reason she was at Riverwood to begin with was because noone else will take her!"

"I understand that but..." She hesitated.

"But what?" She was up to something he knew it.

"But I had an idea. Mabye you know someone who understands AIDS a little better then most. Someone who wouldn't normally be approved as a foster parent."

"You mean a same sex couple." She was on to something here. He thought about it for a moment.

"Its just an idea." She took a step back from him.

"Its a good idea. Give me a couple of days." With that he left quickly walking with a purpose.

* * *

Sara opened her eyes. She saw nothing at first, just too much light. Slowly Ashley's bright blue and black hair came into focus. 

"Hey sleepy head."

"Hi." Her voice came out croaky and hoarse.

"How you feeling?" She was sitting in a chair beside Sara's bed, leaning forward, her arms crossed and resting on the crisp white sheets.

"Sleepy. I'm being discharged soon." Sara mumbled.

"Really. They're sending you back to Riverwood?" That didn't make any sense. They couldn't look after her there. Not to mention what some of the girls would do to her.

"I'm not sure. I think they're trying to find a place for me. I don't know who'd take me at this point though?" She smiled at Ashley then looked down at where her arms were resting on the sheets. Ashley's fingernails were blue as well today.

"Well wherever you end up I'm gonna come visit you."

* * *

Joseph had good news for Sara's doctor. He had spoken to some friends of his who had been trying to adopt or foster children for a few years now, but had so far been unsuccesful. They had agreed to take her, despite her illness. He had thanked them about fifteen times already. He and Joanne were in Sara's room explaining it to her. 

"They're friends of mine. I trust them." He told her.

"Does this mean we're giving up?" Sara asked Dr Williamson.

"This isn't about giving up. This is about giving you a better environment to live in. You spend most of your time in here alone, and I just don't think thats helping you."

"I'm not alone. I have Ashley, and you guys."

"And we will still be there for you. I just think this is a better option." Joanne was sitting next to Sara's bed as she spoke to her.

"Okay." Sara said quietly knowing that there would be no more treatment.

"Okay, They're just outside, they wanna meet you, can I bring them in?" Joseph was speaking now.

"Okay." Sara watched as Joey left the room for a moment he returned with two men in tow. He introduced them.

"Sara this is Micheal Stewart and Louis Berston." He gestured first to a blonde guy. He was not overly tall, a little over weight, with kind brown eyes. He seemed nervous. The second man, Louis, was taller, black, slender and toned. He had a shaved head, and Sara was sure he was wearing the same colour makeup as Ashley did.

"Guys this Sara Sidle." He introduced her then stepped back to allow the two men to speak to her.

"Hi" Was all she managed.

"Hi Sara." Louis spoke to her softly, he moved closer to the bed. "Its nice to meet you."

"You too uh..Louis?"

"Mm hmm, thats me." Sara smiled she looked a little closer at his eye shadow it was pretty close. "You see something strange little girl?" He said with an amused cadence in his voice.

"You wear the same colour make-up as a friend of mine." She held his eyes. "It's _always_ blue, even her lipstick, god only knows why." Louis gave her a warm smile. There wern't many people he took an instant liking to. Too many years spent nursing cranky, ungrateful, rude patients in the cardiology unit of this very hosptal. His cynacism had begun to ease recently however, since he had taken a job at an AIDS hospice a few years ago. Sara however he liked. She seemed intelligent, upbeat, she still had a sense of humour. But the most important actor that played in her favor was Joey's attatchment to her. He had never seemed so desperate as he was the night he asked them to do this. Louis knew it was partly due to his lovers recent death and partly because because he liked Sara.

"Well I'm just gonna have to meet this friend of yours arn't I."

"Please tell me your friend isn't into those big hoop earings as well, I don't think I could handle that." This was the first time Micheal had spoken. He seemed nervous, eager too make her laugh, too make her like him. It worked. She had spent so long being treated badly that anyone who was nice got her attention and her respect.

"No she's not. At least not as far as I know." He laughed at her, while Louise glared at him playfully.

"Ok." Dr Williamson interrupted, "Lets get you discharged Sara." She looked at both men and asked, "Could one of you come with me to sign some papers." Louis nodded.

"Lead the way doctor." He followed her out the door, which she shut. She handed him some papers which he read over with an experienced eye and signed. He handed them back to the doctor.

"Ok," she reached into her labcoat, and took out white cardboard box. She opened the lid and showed him the bottles inside, "This is the medication shes on. All the instuctions are on the lable, one every four hours. Bring her in on Wednesday for a check up, or if she's not well enough give me a call and I'll come check on her." Something about the situation struck Louis as very odd. He watched the doctor as she spoke. She seemed rushed and hurried, for someone who had according to Joey gone to great lengths for Sara. He looked at the bottle she was showing him.

"Can I see this?" He said as he took it from her hand. He looked at lable carefully. There was no name, not uncommon on drugs being trialed, just a series of numbers. He was able to recognise many of the drugs currently on trial, but not this one. "Is this a trial." He asked her in a professional tone.

"Yes it is."

"I don't recognise it." He opened the bottle. His heart skipped a beat. He knew what this was. "What is going on here."

"It just her medication sir." Joanne spoke in an even tone she reserved for difficult parents.

"Don't give me that shit. I'm a nurse. I work in an AIDS hospice I know whatthese are, and I can guess how they were obtained." Joanne froze, she hadn't planned for this. "How did you get these?"

"They were a gift." She wasn't lying.

"A gift?" His voice was skeptical. "What gives you the right to decide who gets these and who dosen't. I have so many patients who are just as deserving of these drugs."

"Somebody went to a lot of trouble to get these to Sara. I know that there is no possible way to distibute those so that I can help everyone in need. If I turn them in they'll be destroyed. We can help her with those pills." Joanne held out the box for him to take. "It's up to you sir."  
She waited.  
He looked at the bottle in his hand.  
She waited.  
Hehanded her the bottle.

"I'm sorry. I know to many people who need those just as much as she does. If everybody got them like this..." He shook his head and went back in Sara's room.

* * *

Phew! that one took me a while. By the way I'm back at Uni now so while I do plan on continuing with this story, writing it will take a backseat to studying...well thats the plan anyway. 


	22. Chapter 22

Wow! been a while.

Told you I wasn't quiting ;)

Heres some more. It's a little bit short I know but I'm gonna try and been more frquent with my updates. No promises though.

* * *

Greg was tired. He was frustrated. He wanted this case to be over. He went over it in is head. 

_Victims. Three dead bodies. All male. According to the autopsy report one had drugs in his system. Crystal Meth. All three had track marks. All three were stabbed to death._

_Scene. Murder weapon. Knife found at the scene. No fingerprints. Paper torn from a plane ticket only thing not covered in the victims blood. Only passenger on the flight not able to account for the ticket was Claire Matthews._

_Suspect. Claire Matthews. Resides in SanFransisco, formerly with her son. Now deceased._ _Currently staying with Sara. Set of knives consistent with the murder weapon found at Sara's apartment, one knife missing and still unaccounted for. Claims to have been picked up from the airport and taken straight to a cafe by Sara. Unable to substatiate the alabi since the owner passed away from a heart attack. _

That was all they had. No more forensics. There was too much blood to determine much from it. Except vauge positions of the men when they had been killed. That was all they had and it struck him for the first time that the evidence didn't only point to Claire Matthews. It pointed to Sara.

It was her knife.

By her own admission she had picked up Claire from the airport, giving her acsess to her ticket.

And according to Brass. She had been a drug addict. Crystal.

He was a CSI. It was his job to follow the evidence. He had wanted it for so long. Only now it was the last thing he wanted to do.

* * *

"Hey Brass!" Greg called, as he tried to catch up with him in the hall. Brass heard his name and turned around, slowly looking up from the report he was reading. 

"Greg. Got anything new for me?" He looked at the young man. He looked nervous.

"No, but I've been thinking, and...I think we have a problem."

"What's that?" He lowered the report to his side and waited for Greg to continue.

"I don't think the evidence points to Dr. Matthews. It points to Sara." He had known this. It was the reason he was re-reading Claire interveiw. He let Greg continue. "It was her knife, she admits to picking up Claire from the airport giving her acsess to the airline ticket, all three victims were Crystal addicts."

"So was Sara." Brass filled in the rest.

"Are you sure about that?" He still could not quite believe it.

"Yeah, Claire told me." He gesture with the copy of her interveiw.

"Were they lovers?" Greg had already figured out the answer to this but he asked anyway.

"Yes." Brass held his eye contact with Greg.

"What?" Greg prompted

"Joey." Was all he said

"Claire's son?"

"Their son, they were supposed to raise him together. Broke up cause of Sara's habbit." He opened the door to his office and motioned for Greg to go inside, he followed and closed the door behind them. "He got HIV from her." He watched as Greg eyes widened with surprise. He had heard the rumours about Sara being positive, but had though she would have been more careful then that."A couple of addicts broke in, they were looking for a friend of hers, a guy named Mike. Saw the kid thought he was Mikes, took Sara's blood and injected him with it after they knocked her out. Though it would be a good way to get back at him."

"Addicts." Greg confirmed.

"Yeah."

"Get back at him for what?"

"Claire didn't know. She thought Sara might though."

"You think our case was revenge?"

"I hope not. But if it was it gives us another suspect."

"Mike" Greg said. "Should we interveiw Sara?"

"I think you shouldtalk to her. If we drag her in for an interveiw, we'll just piss her off. Keep it informal. Find out who Mike is. Find out about those guys." Greg nodded.

"Ok."

* * *

Sara sat facing Claire, in her living room. 

"I'm gonna talk to Brass see if I can get him to let you go home. Organise the funeral." Claire nodded. She was in a sort of daze. Not wanting to think about her sons funeral. Not able to think about it.

"What...what about you are you gonna come.?" She tried to bring herself out of it.

"I don't know if that's a good idea." Sara looked at her carpet.

"He was your son to." She got Sara's attention back with that.

"He was supposed to be. I think I fucked that up though."

"Yeah you did. I still think you should come." Sara gave her a small smile. Nobody had ever been able to insult her and make her feel needed at the same time the way Claire could.

"I don't think your family would appreicate that."

"I would appreciate it."

"You really want me there?" She held Claire's eyes.

"Yes."

"Okay." She nodded as she spoke. Then she heard a knock at the door. "Just a minute." She got up to answer the door.

"Greg." She said as she opened the door.

"Hey. We need to talk." He looked behind her at Claire. "It would be better if it was private. It won't take long, half an hour."

"Hang on." She went back to Claire. "I need to talk to Greg for a little while. Will you be okay by yourself for half an hour?" Claire nodded and Sara followed Greg downstairs.

* * *

So does anybody even remember the existence of this story? 


	23. Chapter 23

Boo! Did I scare you. Well if I didn't scare you I bet I surprised you.  
Here's some of that story some of you may vaguely remember...

Oh and I don't own CSI

* * *

Sara sat on a bench beside Greg. He had told her about the interveiw with Claire. 

"So you need to know about Mike." Sara guessed.  
"Yeah. Do you think he could have done this." He looked her in the eyes and spoke softly. She looked away.  
"If I say no your only suspect is me, if I say yes how will you know I'm not lying to protect myself?" Greg didn't answer, he was new to interveiwing suspects. He started to think Brass had been wrong to get him to do this. Sara sighed and the started talking.  
"Michael Hall." He's not a nice guy. Unless he likes you. I'm pretty sure he's killed before. I wouldn't be suprised if he did this. But I don't know why he would have."  
"How much do you know his other murders?"  
"Nothing concrete."  
"Your knife was found at the scene." Sara looked at Greg again.  
"Along with Claire's ticket. And you guys arrested her for it. Despite the fact that it would just about impossible for her to have gotten from the airport stopped off at my apartment picked up a knife, gone to the scene stabbed three men despite each of them being about twice her size and accidently dropping her plane ticket between the time her plane landed and the time of death."  
"So how did your knife get from your apartment to the crime scene and Claires ticket get from well her or the airport to scene? Because the same time frame still applies."  
"I don't know Greg"  
"Where do I find Mike?"  
"He own's a gym." She gave him the address. "I'm sorry. I don't know anything else."  
"It's ok. Take care of yourself Sara." Sara nodded. Greg got up to leave, he turned around. "Sara." She looked up. "I'm sorry about your son." She said a quiet thankyou and Greg returned to his car.

* * *

When Sara got back up to her apartment, Claire was making coffee. 

"So Whats the verdict. Are they goning to arrest me again?"  
"I think there looking at Mike."  
"What about your knife, and my ticket, I mean that had to have been planted but why would..."  
"Mike does alot of things I don't quite understand."  
"At least you're not defending him this time." Claire was refering to an argument they had after the night Joey was infected. "What if two of those men that were killed were the guys who broke in that night?" Sara walked up to Claire and put her arms around her.  
"You don't have to worrry about this..."  
"Don't have to worry about this." She pulled away from Sara's embrace."Sara someone planted evidence at a murder that implicates both you and I doesn't that concern you?"  
"I...I don't know. I don't want to think about it." Silence fell between them. Claire brought her hand up to her eyes as she thought about Joey again. Once more Sara put her arms around Claire and decided that she had a point. Sheneeded to she pictures of the victims.

* * *

Greg and Brass pulled up outside 'Mike's' Gym. They got out of the car and entred the bulding. The smell of sweat entered their nostrils. Sounds of feet poundind on treadmills gloved fists hitting punching bags, weights hittingon the floor. They walked up to the counter. There was a young man behinda dustycounter. Greasy blonde hair, well built. Brass got his attention.

"Excuse me. I'm Dectective Brass from the Las Vegas police department, I'm looking for the owner, Mike Hall. Is he here?" The young man nodded politly or perhaps he was scared Brass couldn't tell.  
"He's in the office. I'll show you." He stepped out from behind the desk and led them down the corridor. They got to a door on which the man knocked. 

"Yes." Came the muffled response. He explained to Mike who they were and stepped aside to let them in, before he returned to his post.

"Your Mike Hall?" Brass asked.  
"Yes and you are?" Brass introduced himself and Greg as he sized up Mike. Hes was a big guy. Probably about 6'4". He wouldn't want to run into him in a dark alley. He asked him where he was the night of the murder.  
"At home. Alone." Brass showed him photos of the three victims.  
"Have you ever seen these men before?" Mike took the photos and studied them carefully, He handed them back.  
"No."  
"Do you know Sara Sidle."  
"Yes." Brass was getting frustrated with the short replies.  
"How do you know her Mr Hall?" His vioce got terse.  
"Just a friend."Brass sighed and tried another tactic as Greg's eyes scanned the office. It was messy, and like most of the gym it looked as thought it was rarely cleaned. Other then that it held no obvious evidence.  
"How about Clair Matthews."  
"What about her?" Brass swolled his urge to smack the guy. Partly out of professionalism partly because Mike could probably flatten him with one hit.  
"Do you know her?"  
"Oh. Yes." Brass glared at him  
"How do you know?" He sounded the words out slowly  
"She's Sara's ex."  
"Ok sir thanks for all your help." His voice held plenty of sacrcasm.He turned and left the office.

When they were outside Brass said to Greg.  
"We need background on this guy."

* * *

Ok thats all for now. Kinda short I know and not much happened. I'm hoping to get some more up soon, and by soon I mean a few days not a few months. 


End file.
